Enduring the Flames of War
by Masterdude21
Summary: A joint Asari-Turian operation salvaged a "package" from a derelict wreckage in the Terminus Systems, whereupon they release a force of war beyond their reckoning. Hoping to avoid another war, Commander Shepard recruits the "package" into her team. A simple act of kindness, unwittingly paving the way for a clash unlike the universe has ever seen. Fate directs the flames of war.
1. Chapter 1: Derelict

~0~

* * *

It was with the exasperated sigh of someone who had reached their daily limit of stress that Lieutenant Commander Jane Shepard stepped away from the Galaxy map of the _Normandy¸_ pinching the bridge of her nose as she did. "You said a message, Kelly?"

"Yes Commander," replied the Yeoman, glancing at the console in front of her. "It appears there was a delay between being send and it arriving. Odd."

Great. Just what she needed before embarking on the next mission; more distractions. "Fine. Hit me."

Of course, the Commander couldn't simply get away with what was an obvious sarcastic comment. Kelly Chambers picked up on her weary undertone immediately and when she replied, her tone was less cheerful and more…well, Yeoman. "Don't worry Shepard," she said with a bit of a smile. "It's not The Illusive Man."

Not The Illusive Man? Then this day was already turning for the better. After all, tearing through an entire division of Eclipse mercenaries was something that had to be spread out over a long week and not, as the Eclipse had probably thought, twice on the same day.

They had missed that particular memo, occupied with the Justicar as they had been.

"That livens up my day," Shepard said with a relieved sigh. She moved towards her personal terminal, wondering who else would contact her in the middle of the Attican Traverse.

 _+Are you tired of spending your credits on new guns that jam the second you need to pull off that amazing shot? Are you sick of heat sinks that fall out just when you don't need to reload? Then look no further! Here at the Monumentum-+_

Shepard pressed the delete button and moved straight back to the galaxy map. "If that's all, Kelly, I need to-"

"Second message incoming, Shepard. Another delayed one. Uh-oh."

A feeling of growing horror slowly settled within the Commander's stomach. "I don't like the sound of that uh-oh."

"It looks like The Illusive Man wants to speak to you."

 _Damnit._ Shepard rolled with her eyes and stepped down from the platform once more. "I'm on it," she said. _This had better be good._

"Good luck Shepard."

The Illusive Man…the enigmatic leader of Cerberus and a personal pain in the ass. Jane couldn't _stand_ the man; after what he had pulled on Horizon…tricking the Collectors into attacking the colony simply because he didn't want to wait for the next attack? The bastard should be glad that defeating the Collectors was so damn important, otherwise she would have quit working with him then and there.

The Comm room was a small but significant portion of the _Normandy,_ dominated by a large, rectangular conference table that could be retracted to allow for the quantum entanglement-based communications array to kick in. Advanced holographic technology made for conversations much like she had had with the Council, back gin the original _Normandy._

Fond memories. If only Illusive Man was so fun to cut off.

Too soon the table disappeared into the floor and the Man himself appeared, in all his holographic glory. " _Shepard_."

"Tim."

The Man took a whiff of his cigar and observed Jane for a few moments. " _Something came up. Something new."_

"You're going to have to be more specific than that," remarked Shepard.

" _Very well. We have located what appears to be a wreckage, but it doesn't look like anything we know. This could be an opportunity."_

Shepard raised a sceptical eyebrow. "A wreck? Collector?" _`Reaper?_ "Why is this important?"

 _"That's the catch: we don't know. When I say that it doesn't look like anything we know, I mean it."_ A pause. " _There aren't many things that I don't know, Shepard."_

So a wreck that The Illusive Man himself had no clue about? Sounded interesting. It also sounded like the perfect spot for an ambush. "So am I just that special, or do others know of this wreck too?"

" _The wreckage was found in the Terminus Systems, Shepard. Beyond the Titan Nebula. If we don't salvage it, someone else will."_

The Terminus Systems…the largest collection of scum and pirates lived there, united only in their mutual hatred for the Council and the Citadel politics. There was no law there. No rules, no mercy. Anyone who lived there, was on their own when they were attacked. A notion that slavers and pirates knew all too well.

Jane felt like eating her helmet. This was typical Cerberus; she _could_ choose to ignore this, but if she did, it would be a missed opportunity. Someone could get their hands on that ship –someone who wasn't supposed to. If it was Collector-related, she really couldn't miss out on it. If it was someone in need of help…she didn't _want_ to miss out on it. "I'll look into it," she reluctantly said. Each time she swayed before The Illusive Man's arguments and logic, it felt like she stepped away from what made her who she was.

" _A wise decision, Shepard. Don't forget; just because the Council has no jurisdiction in the Terminus Systems…"_

"…doesn't mean that they don't have a hundred sneaky agents keeping a close eye there," Shepard finished his sentence. "I got it."

" _Good luck."_

That last part sounded so almost-sincere that Shepard almost hesitated in cutting the link and turning away. "EDI, tell Joker to set a course for the Terminus Systems."

" _Affirmative,"_ said the Artificial Intelligence. EDI's unemotional and familiar voice had a soothing effect on Jane's pounding headache, which was slowly starting to subside again.

The journey to the far side of the Terminus Systems would take the _Normandy_ a while. Long enough to catch a few hours of sleep and decide on who to take with her into the derelict. He might be an ass, but The Illusive Man was right. An unknown wreckage that even Cerberus with all their bugs and Operatives did not know about? There had to be something fishy about that.

As Shepard made her way towards her private quarters, she started wondering just what sort of fishy it might be. There was a big chance that the place would be crawling with pirates by the time they got there. There could be dangerous ambushes, maybe even highly-dangerous ordnance on-board. It might be the same Collector vessel that had attacked Horizon, disabled by some off chance. If that was the case, she needed someone who could take and dish out some good damage. Someone she could fully trust

It had been a while since she had picked Garrus for the team and this looked like an excellent situation for him to shine. If there were Collectors though...biotics had proven to be very effective against those things. Jack had proven an invaluable ally on Horizon.

Samara. How would the Justicar perform against the Collectors? Jack was amazing in combat, but this operation required delicacy. Perhaps even some diplomacy. And if the situation hit the fan, the squad would have to improvise. Something that Asari were supposed to be very good at.

She would see.

Jane sat down on her bed and glanced at her aquarium, remembering what Ashley had told her.

 _You've turned your back on everything we stood for!_

Had she? Working with Cerberus was not something that she had ever considered as a part of her future. She had destroyed plenty of their projects, back during her time as a Spectre. It was only because they would help her protect humanity that she tolerated them. Yet that fateful encounter on Horizon stuck with her. The source of her headaches? Maybe.

Well, it wouldn't help to stay bothered by it. Ashley had made her choice –and perhaps it was for the better. She had rebuilt her life in the two years of absence and stopping the Collectors would be even more dangerous than stopping Saren. A suicide mission, as her new squad called it. In spite of it being the most negative name that Shepard had even heard for an operation, it stuck. Suicide mission, the banner under which they all stood united.

With a small grin, the Commander fell asleep. Her rest was short-lived though; her alarm woke her a few hours later, bringing her back from a dreamless sleep.

Shepard reached for the alarm and briefly remembered what had happened the last time she had disabled it. The techs had promised that the new one would be a lot sturdier, but she didn't have a lot of faith in what looked like a cheap Citadel souvenir. Gently tapping the button, Shepard got up and checked her private terminal for more surprises.

Thankfully, there were none.

"EDI, status?"

" _We have almost reached the Titan Nebula, Commander. I would have woken you in twenty minutes and eleven seconds."_

Twenty minutes left then. Time enough to visit the crew. It was important to Shepard to check up on her team as much as possible. Some of them, like Tali, didn't have a lot of confidence in the whole Cerberus thing. Others, like Grunt or Jack, didn't have a lot of confidence in the whole being on a team thing. The list went on and Shepard was a patient woman. She had come to depend on a lot on her squad members and in turn, they had depended on her to get them out of hairy situations. Some more than others.

The conflict with Saren had proved one thing in Jane's mind; trusting in your team was important. She wasn't intent on dying on this suicide mission of theirs, but there was a big chance that it might happen. That went for all of them. Motivation and trust were the key to keeping her crew alive. And as it turned out, that idea was harder to reach than she had initially thought.

"I'm like Sovereign, Tali," Shepard told her favourite little quarian. "I indoctrinated Cerberus and now they are working for me."

Said little quarian crossed her arms over her chest and shifted her weight to her hind leg. "Oh really?" she said. "Then I take it _you_ ordered all the bugs and microphones around here?"

Shepard blinked. "What now?"

Tali reached for her desk and retrieved a small, metal object with two pins attached to it. It easily fitted in the palm of her hand. "Here. You can't trust Cerberus, Shepard. You should know this already!"

The Commander reached for the bug and observed it. It looked like it had been attached to the ceiling or the wall or…well, anywhere actually. She knew that the Engineering deck was important, but _damn_. "Miranda," she growled.

"Do you want me to check the rest of the deck for more?" Tali asked with a playful voice.

"You do that. I'll have a talk with Miss Lawson. Who is supposed to be working for _me_."

"You do that. Oh, and Shepard?"

The Commander turned around in the opening of the door. "Yeah?"

"Thanks for getting me out of Haelstrom. Alive, I mean."

"Of course," she replied. "Anytime."

Shepard liked to see herself as a patient woman, but seeing how not even the Engineering deck had escaped Miranda's little visit made her want to channel Jack's vocabulary a hell of a lot more than usual. She wouldn't though; she didn't want Grunt to pick up on that. The Krogan was…sensitive to environmental stimuli.

"Miranda!" Shepard barked a few minutes later, storming into the Operative's office. "What's this?"

Miranda observed the destroyed bug and a hint of frustration played over her features. It was gone the next second though and when she replied, it was in her usual smug and to-the-point tone. "A piece of expensive hardware. Did the salarian find it?"

"What is your piece of expensive hardware doing on Engineering?" demanded the Commander. "What's it doing _anywhere_ on my ship?"

"Safety measures, Commander. We can't be too careful."

"Safety measures for what? Space STD's? Miranda, I don't want you listening in on the team! Come out to talk to them if you want to, but don't be sneaky! You don't work for The Illusive Man here; you work for me! Are we clear?"

Miranda sighed and nodded. "Crystal, Shepard."

That was easier than expected. Now that that was taken care of, there was something else that she wanted to know. "Good. How is your sister doing?"

With a smile, Miranda said, "I think she's doing just fine. She's smart. The people taking care of her? They're trustworthy enough. Oriana knows she can't ask too many questions, but…"

Was that hesitation she heard? "But…?"

Lawson leant back in her chair and looked the Commander in her eyes. "I don't know…sometimes I wish I could talk to her in earnest. And in person. I know I can't and it's silly, but I want to be absolutely certain."

"Certain that your father won't give up?" asked Shepard. "Or certain that her family will treat her well?"

"Both, actually. I know that her family will treat her well –I looked up them- but my father is a very persistent man. He is still trying to find her…and I think he is getting closer."

Shepard nodded, seeing what Miranda was getting at. "When the time comes and we need to relocate her, we'll be ready."

Another smile. This time genuine. "I appreciate it, Commander. I take it that The Illusive Man debriefed you about the derelict?"

"He did. I'm about to head out. Why?"

"Well…Cerberus has an extensive intelligence network, even in the Terminus Systems. If there is a vessel out there that doesn't match any of the known profiles, it's almost certain to be trouble."

While the wreckage could just be another badly-mangled starship, or just prone to a lot of interference, there was something about Miranda's tone that made both of those options seem unlikely. "Only one way to find out. I should go –Joker's almost there."

"Be careful Commander."

After that, Shepard went back to the Combat Information Centre and headed towards the cockpit. It looked like they were almost at point; Joker seemed to be finishing up.

"Hey Commander," he said. "I have to give it to Cerberus; finding a wreck in the middle of a war-torn, pirate-infested wasteland? That's a real rare find!"

"It's not that simple Joker," replied Shepard. She brushed a strand of red hair out of her face and added, "It doesn't match any known ships. Not Salarian, not Asari, nothing. Could be Rachni or even Reaper for all we know."

"So we do the most logical thing we can think of and insert a small three-man team into it? Shepard, what happened the last few times we entered a derelict vessel?"

The Commander shrugged. "We got ambushed, jumped by dozens of enemies and had to fight our way home."

"And the time before that?"

"Ambushed, jumped by dozens of enemies, fought our way home."

"The list goes on. Don't you think we should, you know, do something else instead?"

"What do you suggest?"

"Ehm…well…we could always probe it?"

Shepard stared at the pilot. "You want to _probe_ the derelict?"

Joker looked away and awkwardly scratched his neck. "Yeah, I know it's a stupid idea."

"Joker, in case you didn't notice, those ambushes never work. I'm still here, in any case."

Mister Moreau didn't have a response to that. The cockpit grew quiet once more, with the only interruptions being EDI occasionally chiming in with situational updates.

"Alright, look at that!" Joker then exclaimed, his voice ringing through the otherwise-silent cockpit. "One Titan Nebula, one derelict…huh, that's weird."

"What is it?" asked Shepard.

"Our mutual friend said that we didn't know what ship it was? Well, take a look."

The Commander frowned and leant towards the console Joker was pointing at, taking in the data and numbers that it displayed. "That's an Asari frigate."

"Yup. Not very derelict, is it?"

"Get us in visual range."

EDI's holographic image popped up as well. " _Scans indicate two vessels. One low-tonnage Asari Frigate and one unknown vessel, larger than the Asari ship."_

"Our derelict," mused Shepard. "Where's our visual contact?"

" _A moment."_ Both the Asari Frigate as the derelict appeared on-screen, but there was something glaringly wrong.

"EDI…where's the second half of the derelict?"

The wreckage was there alright, but it couldn't be an entire ship. Not possible. It appeared to have been neatly severed in half along its width, right in the centre. Several decks were visible from the outside, where some sort of beam or laser had completely gutted the ship. What destructive power could do damage like this?

"Looks like the Collectors were here," remarked Shepard. "That's a very clean cut."

Joker readjusted the image and zoomed in on the two ships. "Yeah, but look at the size of that thing! It's frikkin' huge!"

The Frigate had been connected to the wreckage via a docking tube. White and blue steel met grey and black metal. Comparing the two vessels put the Asari one to shame. Even carved in half, the derelict dwarfed the Frigate. Though the Frigate was rather small for its tonnage, it was only half the size of the ship it had connected to. Odd. The design was completely alien to Shepard; it was large and cumbersome, much more solid than normal ships. Higher and wider, too. Right now, it looked like a solid cube of metal fitted with several decks. As wide as it was broad, in any case.

Really different from the smaller ship that was docking to it. Which raised another question. "They haven't hailed us yet," said the Commander. "You didn't accidentally engage the stealth system, did you?"

Joker huffed. "As if. At least give me _some_ credit. That only happened once! And it was still in the early days."

Right. "Open a comm channel."

" _Affirmative. Communications are open, Shepard."_

"This is Commander Shepard of the _Normandy SR-2_. Requesting permission to board the derelict, over?"

No response. Either they hadn't heard her, or they were actively blocking the signal.

"Asari Frigate, this is Commander Shepard of the _Normandy SR-2_. Requesting permission to board the derelict wreckage, how copy? Do you read me?"

Joker leant back in his chair and eyed one of the screens above him with mild interest. "I don't think they are listening," he replied. "Do they think-?"

A burst of static came over the channel and Shepard gestured at Joker, who immediately fell quiet. " _Commander Shepard of the - under attack form an unknown hostile – "_ Another burst of static interfered with an already bad signal. " _Need assis-"_

"EDI, can you filter that out?"

" _Negative. The issue lies with the Asari vessel."_

"I read you!" Shepard replied to the Frigate. "What's your status? Do you need reinforcements?"

" _-just tearing through us. Disrupting comms –need reinforcements!"_

That was clear enough for Jane. "Prep two shuttles for launch. I want Mordin, Zaeed and Tali on the derelict ten minutes ago, recon only. Garrus and Samara are coming with me."

" _Prepping shuttles for launch. Commander, the Asari vessel is undergoing full system lockdown. All transmissions have ceased, all systems have been aborted."_

"We'll blast our way in. Joker, get us close."

"Aye-aye Commander."

Having given her orders, Shepard rushed towards the armoury to gear up. Carnifex handgun, Tempest SMG and multiple heat sinks for what would be a hot entry. Samara and Garrus were already waiting for her at the shuttle, both of them wielding Battle Rifles. Of course, Garrus had an Incisor Sniper Rifle with him as well. No Vakarian without a scope, as he himself put it.

"We have a situation," Shepard said as soon as she stepped into the shuttle. "An asari Frigate discovered the derelict before we did. They found something in that wreck and now it's killing their people. We're going to bail them out."

"What manner of creature did they find?" Samara asked as the shuttle launched.

"Unknown."

"Sounds like synthetics. Do you think its Husks?" asked Garrus.

"If the wreck is part Reaper, yeah."

There were so many different explanations, one even more farfetched than the other, that Shepard wasn't sure what to think. Collectors, Reapers, mercenaries, Geth…it was all possible. None of it was particularly welcome.

As the shuttle rapidly approached the Asari Frigate, rushing past the dead wreckage and making its way towards the launch bays, it became increasingly sure that they would not be welcomed with a red carpet. Hell, it looked like they wouldn't be welcomed at all.

" _System-wide shutdown has locked the hangar bay, Commander,"_ Joker chimed in through the comm-channel of the shuttle. " _I've got weapon systems at the ready- "_

"Do it!"

" _Aye-aye."_

Several seconds later, the _Normandy_ opened fire. The precision-annihilation aimed at the sealed-off shuttle bay lasted for a brief moment, but it was enough to reduce the tough plating that covered the hangar to shrapnel and ruin.

Shepard assumed that EDI had patched the schematics of the average Asari Frigate through to Joker, because such shots were often risky.

Despite the rough entry and uncertain odds, both Samara as Garrus kept their cool. Samara in particular had this serene calmness around her that was just a bit too dissonant. Detached, yet strangely involved.

She made a mental note to ask Samara about the Justicars and watched the shuttle approach the opening in the Frigate. "This is it. Keep your eyes peeled and your weapons at the ready. We don't want any surprises."

"Rules of engagement" asked Garrus.

"Verify hostile before engaging," Shepard replied as she raised her SMG. "Check your targets, there will be friendlies."

"Roger."

"Commander," Samara said as the doors of the shuttle opened. "Something is wrong."

"What do you mean?"

The doors opened before the Justicar could reply and the three of them quickly exited the shuttle, hurrying to seek cover. Shepard didn't get more than a few feet before she noticed that there was a gratifying lack of enemy fire. As Garrus and Samara took up positions to her left and right respectively, she took a look around. "Clear."

The hangar bay hadn't sustained much damage during Joker's break-in. It was devoid of hostiles and friendlies alike, which also made the hangar irrelevant.

"Move out," Shepard told her squad. She kept trying to raise the soldiers on the ship on the comm's channel, but there was nothing. Not even static; just utter silence.

What had happened here? Who had locked the ship down?

" _Shepard,"_ EDI came through. " _I managed to establish a private connection with you. There is something in the system. I cannot override it."_

Alarm flared through Shepard's mind. "You can't? Why not?"

" _Unknown."_

EDI was a first-class AI; why couldn't she get in the systems? What was happening here? "Do you have any good news for me?"

" _I found the schematics for this particular vessel. I will patch them through to your Omni-tool."_

"Shepard," said Samara. "There is something on this ship. I feel…it is a vile presence. Stained with blood and death. I do not recognize it."

Jane nodded. They would move carefully then. "Stay vigilant. Garrus? Open that door."

Garrus marched towards the door that led towards the route leading to the bridge, activating his own Omni-tool. "A moment."

"Samara," Shepard called her other squad mate. "What do you mean, feel?"

"Some Asari are well-tuned to the aura of other creatures," the Justicar replied with her ever-calm voice. "Stronger to biotics than normal beings. It is hard to bring in words in your language."

Well-tuned to biotics? Could Samara sense _her_ too? Either way, it wasn't relevant for now. "Vakarian, are you gonna open the door or what?"

The turian slammed his fist against the door. "Damn thing is locked tight. I can't get it open."

 _I should have brought Tali,_ Shepard grimly thought. "Step back."

Garrus must have realized what she was planning, because he hastily scrambled backwards when she strode towards the door and enveloped herself in a corona of bright, blue energy. She channelled the mass effect fields that surrounded her body and lashed out at the metal frame of the door, tearing through the thick hinges and annihilating the fabric surrounding them. The cost of the biotic attack was very much noticeable, but she ignored it. Only when she had torn the door free from its frame did she allow the power to dissipate.

"That's one way of opening a door," remarked Garrus.

"Come on," said Shepard. "No time to waste."

The three of them quickly left the hangar bay through their newly-created exit, moving deeper into the ship. The Frigate remained in utter lockdown and the squad was forced to take several lengthy detours before finally encountering the first signs of combat. A mess hall, with several rooms directly connected without doors. Nothing to lock down, anyway.

"Clear!" signalled Garrus.

Clear wasn't the right word to describe the situation. A goddamn mess was more like it; the walls were riddled with bullet holes and there were at least half a dozen bodies scattered around the ground. Asari and Turian as well. Soldiers, seemingly ripped apart by some unseen force. Only two of them were killed by projectiles, taking of major portions of their heads. Blood was splattered across the walls, the floor…pieces of meat and tissue, thick and wet. One turian wore the suit of a Blue Sun and several of the asari were Eclipse, but…

Shepard gritted her teeth. It never got easier, the aftermath of a battle. The bodies, the carnage, the stench of death. Sights like these were the ones that made her vow to become a soldier –to end suffering like this.

"Spread out," she barked. "Check for survivors."

Whatever Samara had on her mind would have to wait. This ship was under attack, that much was clear. But the way these bodies had been killed…it didn't make sense. It might have looked like the mercs had killed the others, but Shepard could see that it wasn't like that. All of the bodies, intact or not, were positioned away from the door. The same door that the three of them had just entered. They had been working together to take out invaders…yet there had been no return fire. The only bullet holes were those around the entry-point and the adjacent walls. A crossfire from the fireteam.

Five of them had been killed with blunt force…torn limbs, shattered chest cavities. The turians had had it worse than the asari from the looks of it; the blue-skinned maidens had been killed with a chilling precision. Snapped necks, torn throats…single strikes with lethal results.

"Nasty work," commented Garrus. "No survivors, lots of blood. One gun missing. Whatever did this stole it and moved on."

No bullet holes on the back wall. No initial return-fire. Only turian and asari blood, nothing else. No bodies, nothing. An unarmed opponent taking on three turian soldiers and four asari commandos? On their own?

"This carnage is wrong," Samara quietly added. Unshaken, monotone…yet her eyes betrayed a sorrow that was new to Shepard. "The Code demands the death of the one responsible."

Not a threat, not a vow. A statement; Samara was going to take the life of the murderer. Unless Shepard beat her to it, of course. And this slaughter…there was a big chance that she would.

"No human could have done this," Shepard said as she took in the finer details of the firefight. "Looks more like a krogan. No biotic damage, anyway. This looks like melee combat."

Garrus shook his head. "One thing doesn't add up; the asari went out a lot more peacefully. No loose limbs and…ah, sorry." He fell quiet as he saw Shepard glare at him.

"The killer engaged five in close combat and killed the last three with a stolen rifle," the Commander then said. "Precision headshots. One Blue Son, three Eclipse. Garrus, penny for your thoughts?"

"Er…what?"

Shepard sighed. "Human saying. What do you think?"

"Right. The attackers took no casualties. The crossfire moved from the initial opening to deeper into the mess hall. The defenders had the initiative, but lost it quickly."

Slowly, the course of the fight started to unravel in Shepard's mind. The lonely attacker –most likely a krogan warlord- entered the mess hall and ran into an ambush. The soldiers opened fire, but there was no sign of the characteristic krogan blood. Must have been a pretty powerful barrier. The attacker then initiated close combat with the defenders, violently tearing through their ranks and stealing one of the assault rifles, scoring two headshots with it.

But it was so _unlikely_. And why were there mercenaries here as well? The other asari and turians didn't look like mercs. More like actual soldiers. Navy personnel. What had done this?"

"Commander?" Samara's voice rang forth from one of the rooms back in the hallway. "I think you should see this."

"Copy." Her thoughts still working overtime to churn out more details about the fight, Jane marched over to the Justicar, taking care to fully clear the rooms she passed by once more. It never hurt to be careful. "What's the matter?"

Samara pointed at an object that had been stashed away in what looked more like a research lab than anything else. The object, set down in the centre of the room, looked suspiciously like the tank Grunt had been stored in by Okeer. A large metal pod, with an odd. A cryogenic tube. Great.

"Commander- "

"I see it."

At one point, the cryo-tube had been protected by a thick sheet of plastic or glass, most likely to allow for documentation. No longer. Something had smashed a hole in the thick plating, torn away the plates. Now it was completely empty.

"The aura is back again," said the Justicar. Her voice was calm, yet she spoke the words like a whisper. "This object is drenched in it."

Though Jane was nowhere near as good with biotics as Samara was, even she could feel that this thing was completely alien. More than that, she had the feeling that whatever had slaughtered the soldiers and caused the shipwide-lockdown had come from _inside_ that cryogenic chamber. The worst part of it? The contortions of the bed –warped and grotesque as they were- were undoubtedly human.

So much for her krogan-theory.

A chill ran down Shepard's spine. _What are you_? She thought.

~0~


	2. Chapter 2: Warrior

~0~

* * *

 _"The SPARTAN-II's are too spread thin. However capable they are, they cannot be everywhere at once. I would recommend the III's, but it is absolutely vital that they remain focused on the Covenant."_

" _There are too many possibilities for missions and operations in this war. And we cannot allow the III's to get tangled in other kind of missions, neither do we have enough II's to participate in the…operations… you are talking about. I find myself sharing your reservations."_

" _That is why I propose another…idea. We do not need many II's and the III's are not capable enough, we need something in-between. How many orphans did the covenant create at Gallyfrey-II?"_

" _Thousands… thousands Colonel…"_

" _I propose the same idea as the III's, but with the same program as the II's. Same augmentations, same MJOLNIR, different purpose."_

" _You want to create more SPARTAN-II's? How much do you think this will cost?"_

" _I want to create no more than twenty Spartans at the same time. And they shall not operate as teams, but as lone agents. I have sent you the dossiers."_

-Conversation between Colonel Ackerson and [DATA REDACTED], after the destruction of Gallyfrey-II on 18 December, 2536

~0~

* * *

A thought nagged at him. Something familiar...uncanny. A world not really know to him stretched out before his eyes, green and bright and…so _alive_. There were people, all around him. People who talked without a voice, who laughed without sound. People who were living their lives, unburdened by the ever-present threat that loomed over them.

 _Alienated. Despised._

It changed. Now they looked at him, their stares hard and unyielding. He saw them move. Their bodies spoke for them, made their intent clear. They were hostiles.

For a few moments, he struggled to remember why he felt so indifferent towards them. There was an objective he had to complete. A goal he had to obtain. Someone needed him…

With a flash, he remembered who. And the moment that comprehension dawned on him, the people around him moved. Bowed over, fell to the ground and started twisting. Stretched to unnatural proportions, their features became blurry, while the sky itself shimmered and changed.

Images flashed before his eyes.

 _The alienated. The despised. A sacrifice, born out of shadows and darkness._

Tentacles sprung forth like maggots from a corpse, dark and slimy. Their nightmarish squirming, the unnatural vibrations –they echoed through his armour, gripping at his soul and beckoning him. Whispering to him. Clinging to his thoughts, attempting to break in.

He knew what they were. He had fought them before.

 _A disgrace. For her glory. Her unstained soul._

The fallen bodies stood, distorted and damaged as they were. Pale, sickly flesh, long tentacles that hung flaccidly by their sides. He was unarmed. A dark, green mist rose from what had once been a peaceful field of grass.

Of course. They would do anything to stop him from finding her.

He wouldn't them.

Unarmed, alone, a foe he could barely understand. Their numbers were overwhelming, their presence alone was enough to make him doubt himself.

Nearly.

He would find her. He had made a promise. And when he made a promise…

…he kept it.

~0~

* * *

 **Aboard unidentified derelict**

Shepard glared at the shattered tube with mixed feelings. On one hand, this absolutely reeked of a Reaper attack. Samara's suspicions all but confirmed it. On the other…it didn't look like any Reaper tech she had seen before. The lack of nasty tubes and shimmering lights kind of gave it away. Some other experiment? Yet another Cerberus idea gone wrong?

Goddamnit, she had no idea. How had The Illusive Man even discovered this thing?

"I'm going to need more specifics, Samara," said Shepard.

"I am sorry Commander. I cannot explain more than I already have. The nature of this being is different from the races I am familiar with."

That could mean anything. A biotic amped up on Red Sand, soldiers completely dosed on combat-enhancing drugs…hell, it could even be the damn Collectors at this rate. "No reason to assume it's friendly then. Great. Stay sharp people."

She found two bodies that she overlooked earlier. They lay in the room opposite of the one that contained the cryo chamber. Both turian, both lying on the ground in a pool of blood. Killed with blunt force as well.

Shepard shook her head, took Samara and led her away from the odd research room, wondering who the hell would install a lab that close to the mess hall. Asari ergonomics…"Garrus, sound off!"

"I'm here Commander," the turian replied. "It seems all doors on-board the ship are off-limits, but whatever caused the lockdown left the maintenance shafts untouched."

The first good news of the day. "Nice. Switch to your rifles; it's going to be close quarters. Samara, take point."

"Yes Commander."

They obeyed her without question. From the mess hall and deeper into the ship, there were no more signs of combat.

But that quickly changed when Shepard heard a rifle go off in the distance and she pulled her Carnifex out. "Double time it!" she shouted, breaking into a sprint towards the sounds of combat. Automatic clatter of rifles, no explosions. Shouts, screaming.

Jane rounded the corner and ran into another hallway, with several rooms at the sides. Crew quarters. Bullet holes covered the walls at the sides –several long trails of impacts, starting at the bottom and moving up in position. More bodies as well, asari and turian. Dead, bloodied, discarded like broken dolls. Two turians stood at the far end of the hallway, firing at some unseen enemy beyond the corridor.

Blue Suns from the look of it, but at this moment, anything even remotely familiar could be considered an ally.

"Up ahead," Garrus called. "It's part of the crew!"

A barrage of gunfire impacted on the turians, Accurate, powerful. Like a marksman firing on full-auto, not missing one shot. The enemy fire nailed the head of the turian furthest away from Shepard. His kinetic barriers flared briefly before they overloaded, allowing the rounds to punch through his helmet and smear his blood all over the wall.

With a cry of rage, the second turian charged towards the thing that had called his friend, sprinting right out of Shepard's view and into the corridor.

"Wait!" she cried, but it was too late. There was short, wet crack and the turian's corpse was violently flung back again. It impacted against the wall and fell to the ground, limp and broken.

"We're close Shepard!" Garrus told her. "Let's get this thing!"

Ignoring the fact that her target had just thrown a bloody _turian_ through the air with the greatest of ease, the Commander discarded her krogan-theory completely. Few krogan could aim their rifles that accurately.

"We need to keep moving," Samara urgently said. Her face was calm, but there was something in her voice that was…off.

They had just missed their window and more people had died because of it. "EDI, is there _anything_ you can tell me?"

The _Normandy's_ AI took a while before she replied. In the time EDI took to respond, Shepard had already crossed over to the turian bodies, confirmed their status as KIA and turned her attention to another hallway. " _Negative, Commander. Keeping this encrypted channel open is the extent of my possibilities. This system is not secure."_

This system not secure…Geth? It could be. But…again, that didn't make a lot of sense. Why steal weapons when they had their own? How did Geth fight in such lopsided melee combat and how could one trooper beat a turian Blue Sun trooper to death in the time it had taken Jane to set three steps?

Geth…krogans, biotics…those possible enemies didn't have anything in common except for the fact that they could kill. And a kid with a gun could kill. To leave this carnage? She had no idea what it was.

"Up ahead," she yelled, falling into a sprint once more. Her boots echoed off of the metal floor as she double-timed it towards the corridor, jumping over the large pool of blood that was the consequence of the turians' attempt to fend off their invader. She was the first to emerge on the other side of the corner and as such, was the first to catch a glimpse of what they were chasing after.

Not asari. Too large, too bulky. Metal plating, dark green-

The thing dove underneath a closing bulkhead and jumped at…something. It was just so _fast_ –no organic could move with such speed. It was gone before she could get a better view of it.

"The bulkhead's closing too fast!" Garrus snapped, close on Shepard's heels. "We're not going to make it!"

"We'll make it!" Snapped Jane. "Samara, buy us some time!"

"On it!" the asari replied, enveloping herself in a corona of biotic power. She bowed her head, just slightly, before she launched herself forwards and slid underneath the rapidly-descending bulkhead. There, she twisted underneath the bulkhead and grabbed a hold of it with her biotics, stopping it from closing al lthe way.

"Nice work," Shepard said, but before she could say anything else the Justicar looked over her shoulder and released the bulkhead again.

"Commander, it's here." The blue aura of her biotic power faded away and the bulkhead slammed shut, cutting Samara off from the rest of the squad.

Jane nearly growled with frustration. "Damnit! Samara, can you hear me? Samara?"

Something exploded on the other side of the bulkhead with such a force that the Commander could feel the shockwaves washing over her, in spite of the thick metal between her and the source. There was a series of rapid impacts, slower than automatic weapon firing.

Which was then quickly followed by the real automatic weapon firing. Short bursts first, which became longer and longer.

"Garrus, look for another way around. EDI, I need schematics!"

An object of immense power struck the bulkheads, denting it. The air was thick with the latent force of biotic energy, stimulating Shepard as well as alarming her. Most of the Justicar's fights trended to end quickly.

" _Commander, I have discovered a maintenance shaft that will allow you to circumvent the bulkhead. It is manually activated. To your left, in one of the rooms behind a console."_

"Got it. Garrus, on me!"

Jane didn't waste a second in moving towards the mentioned room. The sounds of combat didn't stop, which could mean a lot of things.

"Shepard, did you see what we're chasing?" Garrus asked.

"A part of it," she replied as she walked into the room and pulled the console aside, revealing a small hatch where she and Garrus could move through. "It was big. Nothing like Jack."

"So how did it get here, anyway? Was it on the derelict?" he paused, clicking his mandibles as he did. "Oh crap…it's not rachni, is it?"

"Sure didn't look like a bug to me," Shepard replied, making her way through the narrow maintenance shaft. Judging by the awkward bumping and breathing behind her, the shaft wasn't made with turians in mind. Which sort of added the question of why there would be turians on this ship at all. "At least, I don't think so. It used a weapon, remember? And the rachni had…other ways of killing."

Like acid, or exploding, or claws or…neutron purges.

She reached the end of the maintenance shaft, much to her relief. She hated having to crawl through cramped quarters like that. It reminded her of Mindoir.

Well, more things reminded her of Mindoir.

Shepard emerged from the improvised hallway on the other side of the bulkhead, sweeping the area with her Carnifex. It looked like a whole team of krogan battlemasters had gone nuts here; the previous firefight had left a mess, but this one? No scorch-marks, just large patches of hull that had been disintegrated. Destroyed by biotics unmatched among most humans. Bullet holes that originated from long bursts of sustained fire. Massive, man-sizes dents and holes created by who knew what.

In the middle of the destruction lay Samara, streaks of dark, alien blood gathered underneath her.

"Samara!" Jane rushed towards her fallen ally at once, kneeling next to her and checking for a pulse. It didn't take long to find one, but it was faint.

She immediately applied medi-gel to the asari's wounds, hoping that she could at least prevent further damage from spreading. There was a single, fist-sized imprint left on the asari's chest. Larger than any fist she had seen before. "Can you hear me?"

There was no response. She was out cold.

"I thought asari Justicars were the best of the galaxy?" Garrus demanded. No, not demanded. He sounded angry, enraged even. But none of it was aimed at her. "How the hell did that thing take her down?"

"I don't know," Shepard replied. Her options and ideas had just been thrown out of the airlock; she had no clue what this thing was. Absolutely no clue. "But she needs medical attention. Doctor Chakwas can patch her up."

Gunfire. Again. In the distance. Their enemy was on the move again. She had to put a stop to it.. "Garrus, take Samara back to the _Normandy."_

Vakarian's mandibles clicked in frustration. Clearly recognizable, this time. "Shepard, I'm not leaving you here with this thing-"

Unfortunately, Shepard could not have that at this moment. "Too bad. I gave you an order and I expect you to follow it."

Garrus looked at the slumped-over Samara and then back at the Commander. She could see the helplessness and anger in his eyes. That didn't help. "As soon as I get Samara to safety…"

"I'll be done by then," Shepard replied with a smirk. "If she wakes up in the meantime, tell her that it was on my order."

"Right. Watch your back Shepard -I'm not losing you again."

Cheeky bastard. "I'm not the one who took a rocket to the face, Vakarian. Now get moving."

"Ouch. Right in the face. Good luck."

Shepard turned around, wondering how she was going to take care of this. An enemy that could take out a Justicar in close combat…if need be, she would evacuate the Frigate and blow it completely to hell. See if getting spaced did anything to this thing.

She ignored the fact that it just might not.

~0~

* * *

Something was wrong. Badly. Voices, disturbances. His limbs trembled, something nagged at the back of his mind. Like he was still stuck in a dream, unable to wake up.

There was something he needed to do. Something of extreme importance. Where was he?

White light flashed before his eyes, pulling him away from the weary and drowsy state of sleep and towards the arms of reality. Pain, on his skin. Irritation from the cryo process. Irrelevant for now.

He blinked and slowly moved his head from the left to the right. The light faded away, but not fast enough. The inside of the cryo tube wasn't as frozen as he had expected. Less ice, more water. A heat-up process that didn't work very well.

His head hurt. Joints ached. Old wounds flared with pain. No exhaustion yet. Good.

Figures moved in front of him. Odd, wavering. Warped by the glass tube. It hadn't opened yet. Why was he being woken? Why had he gone in cryo in the first place?

A face flashed in front of his eyes. Human, yet not human. A female, attractive and familiar. Something was wrong though; she looked distressed. Her purple, near-blue features contorted in confusion and she spoke, yet without sound.

Now he felt a hint of that panic as well. He knew her.

 _Cortana_.

The Master Chief took a deep breath and attempted to move his arms. They responded, but slow. Too slow. His body hadn't been thawed properly. Someone had bodged the process. His mind was awake, but his body was still half-asleep.

He formed a fist with his right hand and slammed it against the inside of the cryo tube, causing the glass to crack. The voices picked up in intensity, started shouting. More figures darted back and forth in front of the cryo tube.

Another strike, this time with his elbow. He smashed straight through the material and shattered it, creating a hole large enough to work with. Several more strikes were needed to fully get rid of the glass and in the meantime, his ears caught up several noises as well. Voices yelling in a foreign language, female and male.

Male with a double voice, strangely malformed. Flanged.

The plate gave away under his fourth strike and fell to the ground in pieces. The Chief stepped out of the cryo tube and had to grab its metal frame for support when his knees nearly collapsed. His legs were weak, still asleep.

He banished the discomfort and forced himself upright. He had to –there were hostiles in the room with him even as he attempted to recover.

It never ended. Aliens –strange, one humanoid and one not. The former had blue skin and strange, tentacle-like structures on their scalps. All female. The others were males, with reptile-like faces and fringes on their head. Sharp teeth, bright eyes and armed.

As the Chief turned to look at them, the females turned around and ran. The aliens did not. They raised their rifles-

-which immediately identified them as hostile. A clear enemy to fight and the Chief moved accordingly. He pushed himself off and away from the tube and stepped in front of the first alien before it could even fully raise its rifle, launching a snap-kick with his right leg and connecting with its protruding chest plate. Its chest cavity collapsed and shattered and the alien was flung across the room.

One hostile down.

The second one came closer to raising his gun before the Master Chief ducked underneath his weapon, tore it from his grasp and crushed it with one hand. Then, he followed up with two strikes to the creature's face and one to the side of its head. The bones in its neck cracked and its head spun in an unnatural direction, but the Chief couldn't risk alien physique surviving a broken neck. He grabbed the alien by the front of its armour and jumped upwards, slamming his knee into its chest to shatter its bones there as well.

It remained limp. Broken necks worked fine.

Throwing the dead body into the room where the other alien had landed, the Chief took a look around the hallway. A path to his left, a path to his right. Voices came from his right though.

If there were hostiles there, he needed to know what he was facing. He wasn't on the _Forward Unto Dawn_ anymore, which meant no ordnance to use. But these weapons that they were using were…odd. Sleek at the top, with a small scope and a non-collapsible stock.

It didn't matter.

The Spartan made his way deeper into the ship, advancing towards the location of more hostile elements. His joints were stiff and though the internal software of his suit indicated a normal temperature, he still felt warmer than normal. That all became irrelevant when he encountered a door with a strange hologram in the middle, which seemed to float in front of the metal.

 _Odd_.

The hologram was orange, looking somewhat similar to Forerunner tech. But when he touched it, it seemed to reject him. Audibly so.

The Chief observed the locking mechanism for a few moments and was about to attempt a forced entry when the hologram spun around and became green, moments before opening. When it did, it revealed a large room with several rows of tables, connected to a few different rooms.

It also contained a prepared fireteam inside, which sprung at sharp attention the second the door opened. Upon seeing the Spartan, they all raised their weapons.

There were eight hostiles. Four of them were the blue-skinned humanoids with the tentacle-like structure on top of their heads. Again, all female. The other four were the same reptile-like aliens. Two fingers, one opposable thumb. Thick skin with plating, like Grunt carapace.

The blue-skins were armed with a variety of weapons, boxy and large. Two undoubtedly pistols. He should have taken the rifle with him.

The Master Chief took it all in in a split-second, analysing the situation and deciding on the best course of action. His reflexes kicked in and time seemed to warp. Slowed down, sped up, interchanging. He bent his knees and kicked himself off, crossing the several meters between him and the closest target in less than a second. Just like its predecessor, the reptile-bird creature didn't get the time to fully raise get is rifle up before the Chief stepped up close and slammed his elbow against its jaw. The force of his 'blow cracked the alien's skull and knocked the alien off-balance, setting it up for a kick against its disproportionally-thin waist.

The rest of the aliens opened fire, riddling the walls and floor with bullets. Wasting no time, the Spartan launched himself towards his next target. Superior reflexes and powerful muscles allowed for him to get out of the way of the hail of fire before any of it could hit him and by the time he had reached the second alien, the rest had yet to shift their fire.

The Chief unleashed a series of rapid jabs at the chest armour of the alien, shattering it completely. As pieces of metal dropped to the ground, he whirled around the thing, grabbed a hold of its right arm and kicked its legs away from underneath its body. The alien smashed to the ground and the arm ripped free from its socket.

Soft. Weaker than Brutes or Elites. No use to waste his strength.

Giving a soft grunt of disapproval, the Chief moved to intercept one of the females as she rushed towards him, enveloping herself in bright, blue light. She moved slow. As if suspended in animation, her intentions simple and easy to read. Blue light concentrating in her right fist, her pistol held slackly in her left. A threat.

The Spartan ducked underneath another burst of fire, stepped close to the blue-skinned alien and side-stepped her barehanded strike. He tested her elbow joint with a straight jab and found that they were much easier to break than even a human's. Her neck was equally vulnerable; a simple jerk from his gauntlet –which obscured half her face- was enough to wrench her neck apart and drop her.

An orb of pulsating, blue light soared towards him. He dove towards the ground and rolled over his shoulders to avoid what had to be a lethal projectile, opening himself up for more gunfire as he did.

The orb smashed against the hull plating, leaving behind a dark, shimmering patch of damaged metal. His shield might not protect him against tech like that.

He jumped to the side to avoid a burst of fire and, content that he now knew how best to take out the alien hostiles, started his bloody work. He whirled around one of the reptilian aliens, ripped a large knife from its armour, grabbed it by its shoulders and shifted his weight to his hind leg, smashing the creature against the metal floor with enough force to dent it. It tried to rise up, but the Chief stomped on its skull once and then it stayed down.

Hefting the large, alien knife, the Master Chief spotted movement in his peripheral vision. He jumped backwards just in time to avoid some heavy projectile from slamming into his side and quickly spun around to face the offending hostile. The duo of females, one with a large rifle and the other with a pistol. Taking his pick, the Chief threw the knife at the left one, skewering her shoulder with the unwieldy blade.

She gave a cry of pain and clutched her shoulder, but before she could do anything else, the Spartan grabbed her by her throat and kicked her partner against the side of her head, forcing her away. He then yanked the knife out of her shoulder and slammed it into her throat, silencing her.

 _Purple blood,_ he noticed as he tore the knife free again.

The second female didn't get the chance to get up. The Chief tackled one of the other aliens, crushed its throat with a swift strike and stole its rifle. In the time it took the blue creature to get up, he had already aligned the barrel of the odd rifle with her head.

He pulled the trigger and the alien's head snapped backwards when a burst of fire caught her between the eyes.

With one final enemy remaining, the Chief found himself with a conundrum. He needed intel, but all creatures were hostile. They didn't speak his language. They wouldn't bargain, probably. There was only one objective for him, anyway.

 _Cortana._

The alien attempted to strike the Spartan with the butt of his gun. The attack was slow and sluggish, but oddly human in nature. The Chief intercepted the weapon mid-strike with one hand, before lashing out with his leg. The creature flew several meters before it impacted on a bullet-riddled wall. It didn't try to get back up again.

He put a burst in its head nonetheless.

Once more, the Master Chief found himself covered in alien blood. Blue, purple. It did little to faze him, but he did wonder where this new enemy came from. It was always the same. There was always a new enemy who took the place of the old one.

But he had a goal. A promise to keep. A friend to safe.

With his motivation kept at the front of his mind, the Spartan moved deeper into the ship. There was another hallway behind what had to be the mess hall, but it was locked down as well. A heavy door with an orange light once more.

However, the moment the Chief approached the locked door, the hologram sprang to green and allowed him access. Just like before. Strange. Was this supposed to be motion-triggered?

The doors slid open and he advanced. The he detected motion behind him, but he ignored that for the moment, because he also had movement in front of him. An ambush? Another one? Very well. He would play along.

He approached what had to be the crew quarters, with several small rooms at both the left and right side. All of them were filled with enemy combatants.

And as the Chief walked down the hallway, they all emerged from their cover and jumped him. Aliens in yellow-brown, aliens in blue-white, aliens in dark blue. All of them hostile, all of them armed, all of them more susceptible to melee strikes and headshots than Elites. He backed down, opened fire and quickly discovered that the rifle had run dry. When he pulled the trigger, some alarm sounded and what looked like steam emerged. Possible overheating? Like Plasma?

He discarded the now-useless weapon and ripped a new one out of the hands of a blue-skin. She screamed as some of her fingers snapped, but quickly fell quiet when he struck her against the side of her head with the butt of the gun. He then whirled around and opened fire on the other creatures in the hallway, dropping to one knee to present a smaller target. Projectiles slammed against his shields, but the fire that they poured out was inaccurate and uncoordinated.

Left. Right. In the middle. Roundhouse kick at a charging foe. Right, silence.

He moved like a machine, snapping his rifle back and forth. Constantly staying on the move to avoid taking too much fire. When the last alien hit the deck, bleeding from its mouth and lifelessly staring at the ceiling, the Master Chief lowered his rifle and allowed himself a breath of relief. These aliens were easy to take out, but it appeared that they all had shielding. His headshots did not immediately kill, though close quarters combat seemed to be their weakness.

But they all had shielding. The females were humanoid and possessed special abilities. This wasn't Covenant. It couldn't be. Where was he? Why did these things attack him?

There was no way of knowing. And with that in his mind, he continued on. The hostiles that were chasing him were still around somewhere, but he couldn't afford to waste time. Cortana was waiting for him…somewhere. If this vessel had found her, there was no telling what they could do to her.

A door opened from behind him and two more of the reptile-bird things emerged. They started shooting him.

With a weary sigh, the Chief returned fire. His salvo overloaded the shields of one of the creatures and smeared its blood all over the wall, while the other one bellowed in rage and charged at him.

The Chief waited until the alien was close enough and then charged forwards as well, positioning himself low and slamming his elbow into the sternum of the alien. It stumbled, clutching its ruined armour. The Chief then grabbed it by its head and threw it against the blood-smeared wall, finishing it off.

Not wanting to waste more time, he then turned around and quickly moved towards what he hoped was the bridge. Halfway through the hallway he passed underneath a bulkhead, which suddenly emerged from the ceiling and came down towards the floor.

Its timing was suspicious.

Finally, a room that wasn't a hallway. Double-tiered, with small balustrades where enemy infantry could take cover.

Flexing his muscles, the Spartan kicked off from the floor and jumped towards the first floor. At the same time, his motion tracker signalled a hostile right behind him and what felt like a giant, invisible hand pulled itself around his waist and pulled him back towards ground level. The balcony that he had aimed at warped and bent inwards, as if graced by the same thing that had ceased him.

The Chief impacted on the floor again, but he immediately rolled with the force and climbed to his feet again, facing another hostile

She was…different. Unlike the other aliens, unlike any race of the Covenant, this one radiated _power_. Pure, unbridled force, contained in an icy and calm vessel. Her body was very much human, with the same proportions and features. Fit and lean, well-developed. Her facial proportions were different from the other blue-skins though; her jawline was different and her eyes weren't empty and dull. They were large and sparkled, reflecting the ambient lighting. They looked familiar…how?

It looked like she wore a tiara or some sorts. A tattoo made from metal, affixed to her skin. A red and black suit, not at all protective. A large, coruscating flow of blue energy seemed to emerge from her thin frame, like an aura of command. Regal. A prophet that could back up its claims with raw charisma and intimidation alone.

She spoke as she trained her rifle on him. Her voice was flat and emotionless, but the Master Chief did not understand a word that she said.

"Stand down," he barked at her, increasing his grip on the alien weapon in his hands. "And I won't hurt you."

She did not listen to him. The moment he spoke, she lashed out. Her aura exploded outwards with enough force to heavily dent the bulkhead behind her, which had fully sealed the two of them off from the rest. Waves of overpressure washed over the Spartan, but he stood fast and immediately opened fire.

The alien moved out of the way, employing that blue energy to quickly propel herself to the side. He was perfectly capable of keeping up with her though, as she did not move with superhuman speed. Her reflexes were nothing special, either.

It was just that her attacks were so powerful. She was ripping this atrium-room completely apart,

The bullets impacted on her shields, but did nothing to stop her. Her shields were stronger. Melee combat it would be.

The alien enveloped herself in more blue light and unleashed a powerful shockwave that damn near tore the floor apart. The Chief kicked off and jumped backwards, landing on the first floor once more. Her abilities could twist and destroy metal the moment they touched it.

He advanced along the catwalk, returning fire to the powerful alien in the hopes of whittling her shields down. Eventually, she unleashed several bolts of blue energy that disintegrated the floor underneath his feet.

The Chief jumped down, ducked low to dodge another searing wave of blue energy and then rolled aside when the spheres suddenly arced in the sky, impacting on his suit and nearly knocking his shields flat.

But he kept moving onwards and from the looks of it, the woman did not expect that. Her eyes widened when she saw him take her hits and advance in spite of that and by the time she had cycled her rifle again, it was too late.

The first few strikes she managed to keep up with him either dodging or dissipating his force with that strange energy manipulation. When he took a large step forwards and pretended to throw a hook at her face, she leant backwards to avoid his gauntlet-

-allowing him to cease her arm, dive underneath it and pin it behind her back. Then, he pulled her towards him and slammed her on the ground hard enough to dent the metal.

She did not get back up again.

The Chief frowned, wondering why these aliens looked so much like humans. None of the Covenant races looked so much like his people than these creatures did. There had to be something here he was missing.

The alien was still breathing; her chest was slowly rising and falling. Perhaps that was for the better; he might still need her for something, if only to escape this vessel.

But not yet. First he needed to find Cortana. Find her, and then get away from wherever they were and get back to UNSC-controlled space. That was his objective. He would do everything to achieve it.

 _~0~_


	3. Chapter 3: Trouble

Chapter 3, wherein Shepard and the Chief finally meet.

~0~

* * *

" _But the III's had one major advantage; they did not exist. Their project was one of the most well-kept secrets in ONI, yet doctor Catherine Halsey managed to find out about it. She's smart like that. Parangosky was livid when she learnt that. I however, think it was a positive development. We know how she found out. With this new batch, we can take preemptive measures, so nobody will find out. Well, nobody we don't want to, that is. Because what's better than a guard dog loyal only to you, than a guard dog only loyal to you that nobody will see coming? Spartan Operators…I don t want to imagine what missions those will be sent to._

 _\- Doctor David "Jr" Ortyal_

 _ _~0~__

* * *

The empty corridors and long hallways might have looked welcoming at one point in their time of service. Asari were known to install items for luxury…features for comfort. But now, with blood coating the walls and bodies sprawled everywhere, those same hallways had something haunting.

Commander Shepard swept her Tempest SMG back and forth as she made her way through these hallways, knowing that her foe could lurk at any junction. These walls told a story of death and destruction -a story that she and her team could have stopped, had they just been faster. If she had just been better.

And yet… she wondered if an enemy that could best an Asari Justicar in single combat was an enemy she could face on her own. The vast majority of enemies that she had fought had been brought down by a volatile mixture of teamwork and suicidal bravado, neither of which were really applicable here. No team to back her up except the recon unit on the derelict wreckage.

Hopefully it wasn't anything that a good headshot couldn't solve.

Then again, there was no saying if applying a long burst of fire directly into its face would even hurt it. The general tactic for dealing with unknown hostiles was to go for the head, but for all she knew that would only piss it off.

Other options? Maybe slap it with a Warp field and _then_ apply a good long burst of fire directly into its face.

Shepard rounded the corner and reached another catwalk. Seeing the definite advantage of high ground, she enveloped herself with the blue energy fields of her biotic powers and jumped, propelling herself an additional few feet to get the distance she needed. It was taxing, but nothing she couldn't handle. "EDI, am I ever going to get some support this year?"

There was a significant delay before the AI replied and when she did, it sounded as if they were separated by several Mass Relay jumps. Warped, garbled. Static. " _…blocking signal…target? Shep-pard, there is -bridge, to your right -hallway a few meters."_

"What the hell," muttered Jane. EDI was one of the most skilled hackers she knew and she had put that to the test. How could anything block her off? What was going on, here on this ship?

Had the Asari been experimenting with things? But that was more like the Salarians…wasn't it?

There was a hallway a few meters ahead, that led to the bridge of this vessel. The docking tube to the derelict had to be close, too. Shepard hadn't heard anything from the other team, but she was confident that Tali would find a way to fix this damn interference. What was causing that, anyway? An EMP of some sorts? An enemy AI?

The idea of having to go up against some other EDI wasn't exactly something that she was looking forward to. The chances were very slim, but…yeah. Chances weren't her sort of thing.

She advanced through another few meters of unknown enemy territory, listening to any sounds of enemy activity. Eerily enough, there was nothing. No gunshots, no explosions, nothing. Just silence. That couldn't be good. Had this thing killed off the entire crew already? Or had the crew managed to take it out before that could happen?

As Shepard moved towards the bridge, a strange thought formed in her head. This strange hostile had the opportunity to kill Samara. Not disable, but kill. Yet it hadn't done that. Why?

A more pressing concern demanded Shepard's attention. She reached the bridge of the vessel, where there was supposed to be an entire crew of Asari in control of the frigate. Half a dozen of the blue-skinned maidens, geared up and armed for incursions in the Terminus Systems. At least, they would have been smart to make a final stand at the bridge.

There was no sign of forced entry though…the door had simply been opened. No explosives, no scorch marks at the console to point at a forced system override...nothing.

Only dead people.

Three dead asari, hanging limp over their shattered consoles in weird contortions. Flung across the room, their weapons all destroyed. Scorch marks across the ceiling…why the ceiling?

Shepard couldn't see the entirety of the bridge though. A wall blocked her view, some consoles were too large to look around. Two options then; sneaking around and risk enemy fire, or openly identifying herself and risk enemy fire.

Well, there was no sense in giving away her position.

What she wouldn't have given for a cloak like Kasumi's right now…

The Commander ducked low and carefully advanced deeper into the bridge, making sure to move as quietly as possible. These Asari had not stood a chance. Their armor was still largely intact, except for their chest plates. Those had been crushed and ripped apart, likely shattering their chest cavities.

A bad way to go.

There was a faint sound of clothing scraping over metal and Shepard immediately froze. Her combat instincts took over and she vaulted over the piece of metal she had been using as cover, taking aim with her SMG and charging her biotics-

-an asari noncombatant waited for her on the other side, white clothes and unarmed. Jane quickly switched the safety on and lowered her weapon, looking around to verify that this was truly the only survivor.

"Please!" The asari yelped, covering her head with her hands and falling to the floor. She was too loud; whatever did this could still be around. "Don't-"

Shepard was quick to grab the survivor and pull her down, wrapping a hand around her mouth to silence her. "Quiet!" she then hissed. "I'm Commander Shepard, from the Systems Alliance. I need you to talk as quiet as you can. Can you do that for me? Whisper?"

She looked so young. Younger than Liara. What was she doing here?

The girl nodded, prompting Jane to let her go. "Goddess, they're all dead…Commander, there is a monster onboard the ship, we need to get out of here!"

Shepard flinched at the Asari's loud voice. That wasn't how whispering worked! "Easy, I know. I need you to tell me where it came from."

"I…I…" the girl looked shaken. Shell-shocked. How did pale Asari look again? Because she was quite sure that this one was about as pale as a ghost for her species right now.

"From the derelict? Did it come from the derelict?"

The Asari nodded. "It…it came from a pod. A cold chamber. A c-cryo chamber. Oh Goddess…it killed everyone. Felore…Adene…"

"What happened here? Did you thaw it out?" It had to have come from the derelict, but what _was_ it? "What is this thing? Tell me how I can beat it."

But the Asari was done talking. "Please…please save me. Please…d-don't leave me alone…oh Goddess…don't let it get me."

Well, done talking lucidly at least.

"Where did it go?" Shepard tried again, feeling goosebumps moving down her spine. It was like something was watching her, but there wasn't _anything_ around her. Freaking dark in here, too. Why did this thing have to break all the consoles? What was the point of ruining the bridge? This bridge didn't lead anywhere. "Where did the monster go?"

"I-it came from the sky…out of n-nowhere. Like a spirit…"

The sky…out of nowhere…what was she talking about? What did those things mean? The sky…

Hang on. The ceiling had scorch marks on it. It had come from above.

Commander Shepard could feel her heart pounding faster as she turned around, aiming her SMG at the ceiling. She really hoped that she was wrong.

There, on the upper left, part of the ceiling had been shattered. A hole had been torn through the metal. Through the thick metal.

Shepard was about to signal EDI and call for immediate evac when she spotted something else. Something that, despite the situation, aroused her curiosity. It was a large cylinder, blue-greyish in nature, as wide as a man. Half as high though. Something lay on top of it, attached to one of the shattered consoles by several wired cables. Metal wires, weakly pulsating with latent power. A small metal disk. No, not a disk. A cube. Something was supposed to fit into it, right at the top. Except it was empty now.

Whatever it was, the crew didn't look like they wanted it left unchecked. Some sort of glass dome had been erected over the cylinder, like bullet-proof glass. Sturdy polymers of some sort.

Hadn't done them any good; it had been smashed open like an egg from the upper side

And what was this supposed to be, anyway? Was this part of the frigate?

Jane shook her head and swept her SMG around the interior of the bridge once more, checking to see if there was anything there. Anything at all.

"Damnit," she muttered, keeping a close eye on the hole in the ceiling. The Asari had fallen quiet, which was probably a good thing. "EDI, tell me you've got something for me?"

This time, the connection was better. " _Shepard. All communication to the frigate have been severed."_

The Commander pinched the bridge of her nose, hoping that she had heard that wrong. "Excuse me?"

" _All outgoing communication has ceased. All internal communication has ceased as well. I suggest you regroup with the recon team and fall back to the Normandy."_

"Yeah, we can't do that. We've got a survivor…there might be more."

" _Very well, Commander. I shall attempt to keep this channel open."_

She could come back for the asari later. This thing hadn't killed her, so she would probably be safe right where she was. As for the hostile though…if it had access to the ship, it could be anywhere.

Her communication channel registered someone trying to come through, but the connection was even worse than it had been with EDI. What was wrong with this ship? "This is Shepard, what's wrong?"

" _-Shepard…- hostiles…- goddamnit! Cover…-"_

That had to be Zaeed. Had he encountered something on the derelict? It was one thing for him to be cussing on the job, but it was a whole different thing for him to send such an incoherent message while in the middle of cussing on the job.

The unidentified hostile had relocated.

It didn't have to be true, though. For all she knew, Zaeed had lost his patience with the declining communication system. Or he had stubbed his toe.

Doubt flared through Shepard´s mind as she turned around and ran made a beeline directly towards the docking tube. Zaeed was one tough mother and both Tali as Mordin knew how to handle themselves in a fight. But this thing had managed to break free from a cryo tube, slaughter an entire platoon of well-armed mercenaries and subsequently beat an Asari Justicar, all on its own. Fighting other members of the team would be a cakewalk compared to that.

As much as she wanted to let go of that line of thought, Jane was just unable to. She didn't know Samara that well, but she had grown to appreciate the woman for her wisdom and grace, and admire her for her raw biotic power. Seeing her lying on the ground, battered and unconscious…

The small journey back to the docking tube was short, but goddamn did it last an eternity. Jane moved through the empty hallways on a snail's pace, never turning her back to anything for longer than a second. Every creak she heard, every movement she caught, was a potential hostile.

When Shepard made it to the docking tube however, all hope that this might be able to contain this thing within the Asari-Turian frigate disappeared. There used to be a circular door right in the middle of the white pipe, separating the two metaphorical halves of the connection between the two ships. An emergency bulkhead for…well, emergencies. Thick enough to withstand several explosions and all but the heaviest caliber of gunfire.

Something had ripped it apart. Torn the metal plating asunder, starting from the middle. The thick plating looked crumpled, like sheets of paper.

"You've got to be kidding me…" Shepard muttered, staring at hole that had been ripped through the door. The hostile had seriously crossed over into the wreckage? The unknown, unidentified derelict that could be filled with even more of the damn things? Great. Why the hell not.

So Zaeed _hadn't_ stubbed his toe.

It was a surprisingly small hole for something that had to be the size of a Krogan, though. A few feet wide, at the most. No way that Grunt or Wrex would be fitting themselves through that opening.

As she dived through the hole, Shepard experienced something akin to a flashback. She half-expected the derelict to be covered with pulsating, brown plates of rock, eerily reminiscent of an insect hive that had been stuffed with bones and decomposing bodies. However, the inside of the wreckage was nothing like that claustrophobia-inducing hellhole.

No, the first thing that came to Shepard's mind was that she suddenly found herself on the inside of a gun, or some form of primitive barrack. It might have been the cold touch of space that had plowed through its every room, but the derelict was cold and dead inside.

Dark, black metal plating, heavy and wore-down. Shepard was glad for the large oxygen-supplies of her N7 suit; this place felt wrong. Out of place. It was vaguely primitive, but also very advanced.

And it just looked familiar, oddly enough. She couldn't place her finger on it.

Jane tried contacting her team again, but this time the signal was gone. No static, just…silence.

"EDI?" Shepard tried hailing the Normandy, but even that didn't work. She couldn't help but notice the shiver running down her back. Her nerves didn't lie to her; this place wasn't just dead, it seemed to…extend that deadness to everything around it. The Normandy was relatively colorful compared to this wreck. The lack of lights made it even worse. An eerie, dark hole that could be crawling with hostiles. Like Rachni, or Geth or…

Could this place hold Reaper tech?

Shepard realized something else. It bolstered her resolve and helped banish the unease from her mind. It might just be a powerful jammer aboard that was preventing her from contacting her team. And jammers could be destroyed.

Keeping that thought safely in the back of her mind, the Commander moved onwards. Despite the disturbing non-atmosphere of this derelict, she kept seeing signs that this was a military vessel. The complete lack of luxury and civilian infrastructure was a clear indication, but the entire way the ship had once been built just screamed "war" to Shepard. It was big, clunky and built like a bloating bunker.

The Commander pushed a floating piece of metal aside and looked at what was clearly a sign made for human language. And not just any word, but the only word that could fully catch her attention apart from "answers".

 _ARMORY_

That proved that this ship had to be human; nothing about this derelict was even close to what sari, turians or salarians would build. Did that mean that The Illusive Man had lied to her though?

It didn't take long for Shepard to encounter something that distracted her from those thoughts. The armory in question was still filled with weapons. Keeping up with this derelict's tradition, the weapons were unlike anything she had ever seen. One of the walls was covered with dark-colored rifles that, in spite of the current conditions, didn't even look worse for the wear.

Jane whistled softly, picking up one of the black-grey weapons and observing it. Magazine fed, no thermal clips. A heavy, sturdy design, better than the Avenger class rifles. Better fit for clobbering, too. She didn't have much trust in the ergonomics of her own weapons. Beating a vorcha to death with her Tempest would work the first three or four times, but it would probably fall apart after that. This thing though? She could probably beat a Krogan to death with it and still have it function. Who had designed such a rifle?

The gun looked rather primitive at first hand, but a closer inspection revealed more details about its workings. Details that Shepard just couldn't quite place. It had an electronic display, which didn't seem to work with this specific weapon, but it also had a magazine filled with projectiles much larger than any automatic weapon had the right to carry. After much prying and pulling, she managed to pull one out of the magazine, which seemed to fit an awful lot of them.

The projectile looked like an ancient bullet. Bottlenecked, heavy and easily several inches long. A damn sniper round stuffed away into a fully-automatic rifle? What was this thing designed for, killing Krogans? Tanks? Was this some cut-down version of a heavy machinegun? That would make more sense. But bullets? Likely gas-operated. Gas-operated instead of using mass effect fields though? This had to be some very special black operations program.

Whatever it was, she couldn't waste a lot of time here. She had to rendezvous with the other team and make it fast. This operation was turning weirder with every passing second. Mordin could have all the fun he wanted with this gear as soon as they had made it out in one piece.

Shepard was walking to the other exit of the armory when something came through her communication channel. No static preceding it this time. That was strange enough in itself, but there wasn't even any message that followed through. Just some series of whistles. No, not whistling. Beeping. Short beeps, pauses, long beeps.

She didn't understand. For several minutes, she tried to make sense out of the seemingly-random series of sounds, until they eventually stopped.

" _No Morse then? Interesting,"_ a voice suddenly echoed through the interior of Shepard's helmet, prompting the Commander to utter one of Zaeed's favorite curses and whirl around with her SMG at the ready. " _So much for my UNSC hypothesis."_

"Who's there!" she demanded.

There was no response. Of course not; the voice seemed to have come from inside her own head. How long had she been scouring around in the darkness for a radio-transmitted voice to have sounded like a thought?

Well, whatever it was, it was gone now.

Jane shook her head, slowly lowering her weapon. Whatever the message had been, it proved one thing: her communications channel had _not_ been fried by some alien cause. If she could receive, she could transmit. And if something could force her to receive, it meant that there was no jammer onboard.

Unless someone had turned it off for a short while.

She was overthinking this. That had always been one of her problems.

Shepard clenched her fists and moved on, constantly swiping her Tempest back and forth in calm, steady movements as she cleared the corners, rooms and corridors. Though the derelict was completely devoid of air and thus lacked any sense of sound and hearing whatsoever, there were moments where she could have sworn that the metal underneath her feet seemed to hum. Vibrations that reverberated through the walls.

Like something was stalking her.

Where was the other team, anyway? They didn't have oxygen for much longer than an hour or two. They _would_ choke to death if they remained here too long.

The same went for her, if she didn't find her team. But seeing as she would rather choke to death in the cold fringes of space than give up on her teammates, that wasn't really a concern yet.

Two times Shepard whirled around, prepare dose a hostile creature with half a clip of SMG, and twice there was nothing. Just emptiness. Every groan and croak under her feet tensed her up and she half-expected the ceiling to come crashing down above her, just like the crew of the Asari Frigate had experienced when the hostile had butchered them.

Room after room that continued. Nerve-wrecking step after nerve-wrecking step, until finally Shepard outright concluded that, yes, she _was_ being watched.

It was in another one of those dark, damaged rooms that Jane stopped and raised her Tempest once more, scanning the room. A chill ran down her spine as the sensation grew. Her heart beat so fast that she feared it would betray her location and she felt this odd, tingling feeling in the base of her neck, like something was about to pounce her.

She turned to the last corner of the room and froze. There, in the shadows, stood her quarry. As Shepard's eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, she started to make out its features.

The thing was huge. Easily seven feet tall and fully, completely clad in armor. Not armored plating like Krogan, but a set of what looked like powered armor. In the dark interior of the derelict, it's outer plating looked as black as the night. But even with its features shrouded in the darkness, Shepard could make out several details that she doubted she would forget. Olive green and pure black, alternating in smooth yet bulky plating that covered the chest, arms, legs…basically everything. Its helmet was covered with the same, green plating, but its visor was golden. Strikingly so.

 _What is this thing_? Shepard thought. She didn't lower her SMG, but she didn't fire either. She didn't know what to do. In a direct firefight like this, face-to-face with only a few empty meters of vacuum between her and her enemy? One who wielded the exact same rifle as she had found earlier, probably capable of ripping through her suit with two or three shots? She wasn't stupid. There was something about this giant's way of behaving that made her feel like holding her fire was the better of all the ideas in her head. It had done nothing to hurt the unarmed asari and right now, it hadn't attacked her on sight either. So it was capable of mercy, or at least of analyzing a situation. More than an animal.

So that begged the question: why murder the others?

The constant, steady sounds of her breathing sounded oddly warped now that there wasn't any noise or radio chatter around. Everything was just…mute. Completely empty. It made her uncomfortable. Jane wanted to try and talk to the creature, but there was no signal anywhere. All communications inside this vessel were dead. The jammer -if that was even the main problem- hadn't been taken out yet.

The sounds of her breathing inside of her helmet was uncomfortable, but the odd behavior of the new contact was even worse. It just stood there, staring at her. Holding that large rifle in such a way that it appeared relaxed, yet remained fully capable of snapping to action the second it was required. A military tactic, subtle enough to elude quite a few soldiers. And so refined…nearly elegantly so. Why wasn't it moving? There was no sign of it breathing, no sign of it being _alive._ It was just like a synthetic, unwavering in its actions.

Shepard could almost see her own reflection in its visor. Almost.

Well, now that the tension had grown noticeable enough to be felt in total vacuum, she might as well try something. She transferred her Tempest to her left hand and slowly lifted it into the air, away from her body. Right as she started moving, the heavy rifle snapped up and aligned itself with her head.

She hadn't physically seen him move.

The Commander froze, her mind racing to come up with a new plan of action. A part of her loathed this thing for its casual and brutal murdering of people who had only been trying to study it. Another part of her sympathized with it, understanding the significance of the cryogenic chamber and the return to the derelict. It could be afraid, frightened because it was surrounded by creatures it did not know.

Once her thoughts traveled to that specific road, things started to make sense. Coupled with the thing's intelligent behavior and humanoid physiology, the idea of an invisible predator with an uncanny savagery changed.

Shepard forced herself to push the images of the mutilated corpses and the unconscious Samara out of her mind and pointed at her SMG with her free hand, before gesturing at the ground. She repeated that gesture two times, but the alien didn't seem to get it. It didn't budge an inch and it didn't move its rifle down again. If she placed the gun on the ground now, it might open fire immediately.

Her radio crackled and popped and for the second time during this operation, a voice that she didn't know, spoke to her. In direct contrast to the nearly pleasant voice of the female from earlier, this voice was male. Very obviously. It was heavy and gravelly and completely devoid of emotion.

 _"Discard your weapon."_

So much for her 'scared and alone' theory. Shepard scowled at the way the creature simply ordered her to unarm herself, but she still had her biotics if she needed to defend herself.

For a lack of a better alternative, she let go of her weapon and stepped away, annoyed by the way the SMG just kept floating. The alien was forcing her away from her weapon, instead of forcing her weapon away from her. It didn't feel very good.

"Who are you," she replied. How was it possible that her translator picked up on its language? Was it human? "Why did you kill those people?"

It didn't respond to her. Instead, it took a few steps towards the floating Tempest and snatched it out of the vacuum.

"I'm here to help," continued the Commander. "Are you hurt?" It had come from a cryogenic chamber…was it ill? Had this ship been attacked by something? There were no bodies at all…except for the chamber that had been taken away.

Taken.

Oh.

That explained it. The Collectors had attacked and crippled this vessel, stolen its crew and left the cryogenic chambers alone. Then, the asari Frigate had approached the ship, now a derelict. How along ago had this happened?

In all scenarios, this thing was alone. A ship couldn't be commanded by one person. Its crew was dead or gone. Friends? Family?

"Look, I think we started off on the wrong foot," Shepard said. She took a step towards the being and remembered the many times she had had to talk someone down like this. She hoped her silver tongue wouldn't fail her now. "I am Commander Shepard and I'm with the System's Alliance. Are you a soldier?"

" _Where are we?"_ The creature asked, ignoring her attempts at diplomacy.

Biting back a sharp retort, Shepard decided that she would humor the alien. For a while. "Right now, you're in the Terminus Systems. Is this where your ship was attacked?"

For several nerve-wrecking seconds, the creature kept its weapon trained on Jane's head. But then he lowered it, seemingly convinced that his side of the situation was under control. " _What year is it?"_

Shepard frowned under her helmet. _What year?_ This thing must have been out cold for a long time. "Twenty-one eighty-five. You need to listen to me; you just attacked and killed the crew of an official Asari Republic vessel. That's a bad thing. What did they do that you had to attack them?"

The creature didn't even bother to look at her as it replied with its uncanny human voice. " _They were a threat. They initiated hostilities first."_

A threat? What did it mean, a threat? "They attacked you first? You acted in self-defense?" That would explain the bodies of the mercenaries she had found…the Blue Suns. And it explained the fact that it hadn't gone after the unarmed Asari either.

There was just one problem though. His claim for self-defense wasn't an unfair one, but it wouldn't hold up in court. Mercenaries were one thing, but there had been some very obvious official soldiers involved in that battle. Asari Commandos as well as turian soldiers.

She _could_ inform the Alliance or the Asari Republics about this, but the Turian Hierarchy wouldn't take kindly to this. When push came to shove, the Council _would_ call for blood. And this thing would be the one to bleed.

"What's your name?" Jane then asked. "What do people call you?"

There was so much she needed to know and this alien could answer all her questions. And if it was capable enough to take on Samara and beat her without resorting to lethal actions, it had to be incredibly skilled as well. It couldn't be a synthetic, because it wouldn't have need for a cryo tube if that were the case.

She went with the thought of a new species until proven otherwise. What would she do with him? She couldn't just leave him here, drifting…

 _Well,_ an unpleasant voice in the back of her head told her, _you already have a krogan. And a convict._

Could she…take this thing with her? Without the entire crew jumping at its throat? It was a dangerous thought…but if its vessel had been attacked by the Collectors, this soldier would have one hell of a motivation.

The Illusive Man wouldn't like it if she did. That was another argument for this new addition.

" _That's classified on a need-to-know basis,"_ the creature replied. It lowered its weapon completely and glanced at the side of the room, before turning away and walking off.

"Hey, wait up!" Shepard called, cursing herself for her indecision. "Did you happen to see my team? A three-man cell, two males and one female?"

" _Yes."_

Alright, stiff and way too military, but at least it was talking to her. "Where are they?"

" _They're alive,"_ he said. " _Searching the hallways."_

Zaeed, Mordin and Tali? He had evaded all three of them aboard a dead, broken ship?

Thane would be impressed.

"Can you tell me what you are? What do I call you?" Jane asked, following the creature as it wandered out of the room. Her curiosity was fighting a fierce battle with her pride and her worry for her team, but it was still winning out.

Again, no response. Its frustrating lack of manners could be forgiven though, seeing as merely watching it move was so fascinating. On one side, it carried itself with an amazing degree of fluidity and grace, but on the other hand it had to brace itself on at least two occasions. Even though he tried to mask it, Shepard didn't miss it.

Something was wrong. The creature came to a sudden stop, glancing aside as he did.

"What are you-?"

" _There are hostiles inbound,"_ it then said, turning around to face her. It towered above her by a good thirty centimeters and she wasn't the shortest soldier that the Alliance had to offer. " _Enemy vessels, approaching the Dawn."_

The Dawn?

 _"You should retrieve your allies and fall back to your ship,"_ he then told her.

His sudden nobility took her by surprise, but the way he seemingly knew that there were hostiles inbound on his position was even weirder. "Yeah…how do you know that? There's a jammer onboard this wreckage, I couldn't contact my ship."

" _A jammer?"_ He looked away again, as if he needed time to think about her comments. What was up with that? " _Copy. You should be able to contact your ship. Get your people out."_

Shepard toyed with the idea of leaving this wreck and forgetting this ever happened, before completely discarding that idea and turning to face the armored alien. "What sort of hostiles you got? I thought this ship was empty."

" _It is,"_ the alien commented. " _Enemy vessel is flagged as Kowloon."_

"Kowloon?" Jane repeated, recognizing the name as a basic freighter classification. She would be wondering what a freighter would be doing in this system, but she had had enough bad experiences with the people _inside_ such ships to understand what this meant. The questions of how and why had to come later. "More details would be lovely."

" _It's on an intercept course. Commander-"_

So he did catch her name.

" _-you can call for evac now. I'll deal with the hostiles."_

"Yeah, nope," Shepard said as she turned to retrieve her discarded weapons. "The Council likes to think they don't have any influence in the Terminus, but nobody is going to ignore an alien boarding and clearing their ships. Besides; you might need help."

It -he- turned to glare at her from behind his visor. Everything about him screamed 'military', including the blunt and no-nonsense manner in which he spoke. She kind of expected him to simply withhold his response to her remark and lo and behold, he didn't respond. Not verbally at least. His nonverbal signals were nearly impossible to catch, but the mere fact that he turned around to look at her meant that something in her attitude got his attention.

"We can call an evac after we've dealt with these hostiles of yours," she said. "And then you and I are going to have to talk. Now, do you have a name, a call-sign?"

After a long pause, the creature said, "Chief will do."

 _~0~_

* * *

" _Check voice-frequencies one…two…three…this is Mental Health Specialist Jennifer Sunfield, lead psychologist working with the Section Seven of the Office of Naval Intelligence. I have finally received a full report concerning the Augmentations. There is the Carbide Ceramic Ossification for near-unbreakable bones, superconducting fibrification of dendrites…and several other enhancements that turn children into killing-machines. What the higher-ups did not want me to find out however, was the presence of at least three different kinds of drugs in this series. This…worries me. But I cannot linger on these uncertainties, as I have other work to do."_

\- Logbook entry (2), MHS Jennifer Sunfield, 30th of May, 2547


	4. Chapter 4: Pact

In addition, chapter four, wherein Shepard and the Chief get to know each other through kicking ass.

~0~

* * *

" _It's an interesting development to note that, of the thirteen new Spartans we created, none of them are exactly the same. Not everybody got through the Augmentation procedure unscathed though. We've had a few…incidents. Nothing too major though. A small mental disorder similar to autism here, an inability to speak there. It doesn't matter to the grand design of having thirteen physically-modified supersoldiers ready to follow ONI's orders, but…well, compared to the II's? I'm a bit disappointed. I'm totally convinced that one of them could tear me into four pieces with a simple glare and I know they're all so much younger, but…disappointed."_

 _Logbook of Dr. D. Ortyal, entry 102_

 _~0~_

* * *

 **[LOCATION CLASSIFIED -SECURITY LEVEL 05 REQUESTED]/[TIME-STAMP CLASSIFIED -SECURITY LEVEL 03 REQUESTED]**

Admiral Margaret Orlenda Parangosky sat back in her chair, watching the collection of scientists and officers scramble about, trying to make sense out of the most recent events and the reason that they were invited here. Young ones, older ones, weird ones. How far the United Nations Space Command had come with recruiting the best and brightest. How much further she had to go to root out the incompetent ones and allow the sharpest ones to grow.

"Good evening," she spoke, instantly silencing the room with the mere audibility of her voice alone. Everyone looked at her, with a mixture of fear and -in one very specific case- mild amusement. "The purpose of this meeting is to discuss the disappearance of the UNSC battlegroup containing all twelve of the Spartan operators, the events leading up to the disappearance and the consequences."

She looked at one of the present officers -a man with a moustache and dark, grey eyes- and he stepped forward to salute. "Yes ma'am," he spoke. He then turned towards the holographic display and retrieved a small remote from his pocket. When he pressed a button on his device, the holographic globe in the center of the room shifted, taking the form of a Destroyer-class vessel.

"Consequences?" one of the officers asked. A Colonel, not much unlike the late Ackerson in appearance. "Have we found the battlegroup yet?"

"Negative," the officer with the moustache replied. His eyes flashed towards Margaret before quickly settling on the holographic display again. "At least, not the entire battlegroup. As we will discuss later in this meeting, we have made contact with the _UNSC Wayfarer."_

Parangosky sat up straighter in her seat when she heard that. She wanted to see how the rest of the gathered individuals responded to this news and one of them in particular got her attention. A younger man, looking too confident for her likings.

"Halfway through June, 2552, the _UNSC Platernus_ was forced to make a Slipspace jump after the Battle of Aegis III, when the Covenant fleet broke off to engage it. The shipboard AI reported the Shaw-Fujikawa drives were undercharged when the randomizing process per Cole Protocol was commenced, before all contact was lost."

An underpowered Slipspace jump, then? Interesting. And foolish; the Captain in command of that vessel must have been truly desperate to undertake such an action. "On average…how many times was this particular maneuver executed successfully?" She asked, glancing at the younger scientist to gauge his response.

Said response was to lean back against the back of his chair, smirking and declaring, "Twice, if you don't mind me explaining, ma'am. Of the two documented attempts at under-powered jumps, both of them succeeded in spectacularly blowing themselves into atomized bits."

Young, brazen and smug in the face of a crisis that might well see the end of his career. Either she would have him removed from his position and demoted to lab-assistant in some foreign colony, or she would recruit him for her own team. Which one it was, depended on him. If he could match that arrogance of his.

Margaret did not care much for a lack of self-knowledge.

"Not this time though," the officer in charge of the presentation replied, glancing back at the display. "Four months after all contact was lost, we found the location of the _Platernus_. It was still intact."

Parangosky had heard about that. Whispers about a derelict UNSC vessel, located on a world where new Forerunner tech caches had been reported. Along with some other, stranger reports.

"Intact?" another officer asked, displaying the lack of knowledge that the Admiral did not like seeing. "It did not crash?"

"No," the officer with the moustache said. Parangosky took a closer look at the man, taking in his traits and characteristics. Captain 'Eric' Walker…a man of steel resolve, it seemed. Good. She would need that in the time to come. "It was recovered near the surface of an unidentified planet, heavily damaged and short one Pelican dropship. Spartan Operator zero-one-one was missing."

"What about the rest of the crew?" the other officer asked.

"Dead," the scientist replied, leaning forwards in his chair and glancing at the holographic display of the _UNSC Platernus_. No smugness, but just simple resolve. A fact, irrefutable, unable to be changed. "I presume? Cause of death, exposure to lethal radiation?"

"Correct," said one of the other scientists. "The ship did not succeed in blasting itself into 'atomized bits', as you so elegantly put it. Instead, the under-powered Slipspace jump must have created such an intense amount of uncontrolled, lethal radiation, that all personnel exposed must have died. I do hope it was instantaneous."

"All personnel without protective suits," Parangosky said, walking towards the holographic display and tapping at the screen with her cane. "What happened to the Spartan?"

"Once the battlegroup made it to the surface of the planet, they found eleven as well as the missing equipment he had taken from the _Platernus_. However, an incident took place."

"The Scattering," Parangosky said, frowning. She was here with some of the brightest members of the navy and they couldn't even get to the point without having to delay the subject with all the desperation of denial. "Five words. What exactly happened?"

Captain Walker as well as the other officers glanced at each other before quickly glancing at the safety of the holographic display. One peculiar -and to Margaret, annoying- exception was the young scientist that was getting awfully close to a promotion to junior lab-assistant on a farm, somewhere on one of the remaining outer colonies. "Battlegroup, Forerunner portals, gone, sad."

Margaret was about to make a note to remove the young moron from their midst when he did something new. While the rest of the group reacted with the appropriate shock and honest terror at what he had just done, the lad himself merely looked down at the table before looking at Parangosky herself, flashing her a charming smile.

One that did more to unnerve her than it did to inspire confidence. Her suspicions -that of a junior, unexperienced scientist who had no clue what he was doing here- made place for new ones. That of a manipulative and calculating snake whose intentions were not entirely clear. That was…an interesting realization. If he was good, she might have him removed as a threat to her reign. If he was even better…she might recruit him for what came next.

"I would agree with him," Captain Walker added. Excellent.

"An apt explanation," Parangosky said, glaring at the scientist. His name, doctor Ortyal. She knew that name. The head of Xenobiology, the brilliant and utterly mad holder of the placate 'Youngest doctorate xenobiology' and most unpredictable person in this room. "Captain Walker, do continue. We are on a tight schedule."

"Of course ma'am," the man replied. Less sharp, more loyal. More useful? "As soon as the battlegroup descended towards the atmosphere, several unidentified Forerunner crafts appeared and seemed to create new Slipspace portals by as-of-yet unknown means. All but one of the vessels in the battlegroup, including the _UNSC Wayfarer_ , ceased communications afterwards. This happened after the Battle of Earth. The sole remaining vessel reported that the site was inhabited by humans and animals. Humans without knowledge of the UNSC and animals with…distinct and unique abilities, stretching the laws of physics. The Spartan verified that they were, in fact, Forerunner experiments. Some sort of energy conversion project, he called it."

"So," Parangosky said, silencing him. "And thus the battlegroup was split up. Destinations?"

The older scientist spoke up. He was a balding man with spectacles, looking awfully out of place amidst these confident men. Margaret was careful not to underestimate him though; he was the lead scientist in the applied physics department of Section III and not so easily replaced. That placed him in direct contrast to most of the men in the room. "There are large regions of space that are occupied by the Covenant. However, the region they occupy means nothing to the vast size of our galaxy. There are massive portions of space, such as the Perseus and Saggitarius Arm, where we know there are no Covenant settlements. We know this because the ambient radiation and other signals are so significantly different from what we know, that it is exceptionally improbable that those regions are occupied by the Covenant."

"Am I to conclude that the ships ended up in completely unoccupied regions of space?" Parangosky said with a sneer. The man sounded so _passionate_ about his work that it was almost ridiculous.

"I never said that the regions were unoccupied," the scientist replied, pushing his glasses higher up his nose. A habit that was not unlike Halsey's. "I have no reason to believe that the Covenant has occupied these worlds. However, I have every reason to believe that these worlds are occupied by a different empire."

"Which brings us to the next subject," Captain Walker dryly commented. "The _UNSC Wayfarer_ has attached a large amount of information in the catalog attachment files. The shipboard AI has gathered several caches worth of background noise and new radiation that…seems to support the professor's claim about a different empire."

Margaret didn't allow anyone to see it, but that news deeply unsettled her. A new civilization? So soon after the Covenant? There was no reason to believe that they would be willing to broker peace. No, there was _every_ reason to believe that these new aliens were hostile as well. The _Wayfarer,_ flagship of the battlegroup and carrying not one, but three of ONI's SS-II operators, could hold her own against several Covenant Frigates, but who knew what technology these aliens would possess?

"-so I am willing to bet that, wherever the _Wayfarer_ ended up, it has to be near these worlds. In fact, they might be the first delegation of mankind to make contact," the older scientist then passionately concluded.

Margaret turned towards the only other female in the room, a young Captain standing near the door opening. An experienced soldier who had been recruited into the Navy after a series of ground engagements in the Marine Corps. "Captain Rook, you attached a proposal in reply to these events. I did not read it. I would like to hear it from you, personally."

The Captain nodded and crossed her arms behind her back. "Yes ma'am. I propose we ready a fleet and rendezvous with the _Wayfarer_ 's last known location. If we are to make contact with the hypothetical new alien race, we should do it officially."

"And your proposal?"

The officer straightened her back and replied, "I propose we ready the Infinity and her squads of IV's to reinforce the _Wayfarer_ and establish first contact with these hypothetical aliens. One our own officers can make official contact."

One of their own officers…the implication was clear. Rook wanted the _UNSC Infinity_ on this despite it not being ready for eventual hostile contact. Perhaps…a show of f

"You could do that," doctor Ortyal said, raising his eyebrows as he glanced at the woman who should, in theory, outrank him so much that he ought to crane his neck up simply glancing at her. "If you're stupid."

It grew very quiet in the brightly-illuminated room. Everybody currently present turned to look at Parangosky, who in turn raised her head and glared at the scientist who had just sealed his fate.

Perhaps he felt the lingering tingle of a looming death sentence floating above his head, because the young man leant forwards again and placed both elbows on the table. "Imagine that this new alien empire is planning on taking on mankind. They invite us to the peace-treaty, smiling and readying their dinner forks. They see the _Infinity_ , they see our IV's and think 'gosh, all that armour looks intimidating. We'll make sure to take lots of armour-piercing rounds with us', meaning that we effectively spoiled and thus wasted our biggest trump cards. But if we show…say, the Marines onboard some Frigates, they will prepare to catch the small fries. Sometimes, you just need some good-old fashioned element of surprise…don't you, Admiral?"

That last part was aimed at her. God, the man was confident. Not a hint of fear in his eyes. His arguments were…irrefutable. His attitude intolerable. No respect for his elders, no hesitation in pointing out some very obvious mistakes in what could have been a good plan. If his statements had been an _inch_ less logical, she would have had him removed. "It is my opinion that we have reached the purpose of this discussion. The necessary people will be notified of the discovery of a potential new alien empire, as well as the orders that will be given to the _Wayfarer_. As the leading experts on your respective areas of expertise, you will be expected to board the nearest vessel that will be reinforcing the _Wayfarer._ "

She ignored the various looks of surprise and confusement that her statement caused and continued. "After that, you will receive the full report of your new assignments as well. Doctor Ortyal…I want to speak with you. Alone."

The doctor nodded. "of course, Admiral."

It didn't take the gathered personnel long to take their leave. The twin Captains, the professor, the Colonel, all of them walked right out of the room, leaving Admiral Prangosky alone with the man who so unsettlingly resembled Catherine Halsey. Except that _she_ had never been so vocally arrogant.

"Doctor David Ortyal," she spoke, as if the name itself would be the man's condemnation. "Right now, I feel inclined to dump you in the darkest, most reclusive hole to be found in the outer colonies. You have one chance to make me chance my mind."

The looming threat of the end of his career did not faze him either. "Weeeell…you _could_ do that thing you just mentioned, but which head of xenobiology would you use to combat this new potentially and hypothetically-hostile alien empire?"

"I can have a new replacement within the day," she said, leaning back and glaring at the man.

"Yes, but that would be a sad waste of a perfectly good day! The way I see it, with the future of mankind in the spanner, you need the best of the best. You don't send a Marine to do a Spartan's job and you don't send someone to do _my_ job. The things we reverse-engineered from all those Covenant corpses? The medical advancements we made? I needed all the days I had."

"If you are the best of the best." Margaret spoke, standing up from her seat and advancing towards the most arrogant and perhaps most unique young scientist she would most definitely come to despise since Halsey. "I expect results, not driven by ethics, but driven by our _need_. I expect efficiency and above all, loyalty. If cannot muster that, doctor Ortyal..." she didn't finish that sentence, expecting the smug young man to figure out it himself.

Said smug young man simply saluted her. "Of course, Admiral. Given that the last scientist who promised you this, sort of washed away, I suppose words won't cut it. If you want to, you can tell Miss Osman to requisition an AI to keep an eye on me."

For a few seconds, Parangosky leered at the young doctor, her mind switching back between his extermination and his promotion like the pin of a firing rifle. In the end however, his usefulness and intelligence won out over his arrogance and hopelessly detestable personality. So she smiled, which he took as a sign to stand up. "Congratulations on your post on the new front lines," Margaret said, extending her hand towards the young man. I do hope you realize that mankind must never go back to running and hiding, doctor."

"Oh, Admiral Parangosky, once I have a team established, running time is over."

"Good. Because if you mess up even one time, I will personally have you removed from your post, _my_ way."

His smile faded away as her words connected within his mind. Revealing his extensive knowledge of ONI's affairs made him even more valuable, but it also made him even more dangerous. "Of course, Admiral."

Ah, so now he watched his words. Excellent. "I will set you up immediately. An AI to monitor you, you said? I think I can take care of that. Is there anything else you need, doctor?"

He blinked, managing to reply within a reasonably-short amount of time. "A lab, perhaps, where we can make science sing a song of new weapons and technology. A holding cell powerful enough to hold a Jiralhanae and…perhaps a portable carrier for that AI. Could you do one thing for me, Admiral? One thing above all things?"

Parangosky wasn't so sure what to think about the man. He was like a mixture between Catherine Halsey, Serin Osman and a child that was too smart for his own good. She hated his guts, but there was something in him that she respected. Something she wanted to preserve. He had better be as good as he said he was. "My time is precious, doctor. What could you need on top of all of your other requests?"

"When you…when you get that AI to monitor me…could you perhaps make it a male model?"

Parangosky blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Well…the last time I had to work with a female model, things didn't go as well."

"Request denied," Parangosky brusquely said, making a mental note to do some digging in regard to this AI incident. "Get moving, doctor. Your time is even more precious."

"Of course, Admiral."

~0~

* * *

A sickening image of blood spilling free. Not red, not human. The warm sensations of combat stimulated his senses, cutting through the groggy, drowsy state of his mind and invigorated his limbs.

" _Chief?"_

More at the end of the hallway. More of _them_. They would not take her. Within half a second, he had crossed the distance. Metal struck metal and another body cracked and broke. Air and blood spilled into the empty hallway from a shattered helmet.

" _Chief!"_

They would not take her. He reached out, tore the weapon away and opened fire. No red blood this time. Aliens and humans working together. Memories of his own experiences with such an alliance came flooding back to him and he recalled the one alien he had enjoyed working with. The one non-human individual he had respected.

 _The Ark. Halo._ The memories that seemed to rush to the front of his mind distracted him and he quickly forced them back again. Nothing would distract him from his mission-

" _John, listen to me!"_

The Chief halted in his tracks, flinching at the loud tone of the female who was so desperately calling his name. _Cortana._

" _You need to take this one easy -you never properly woke up from Cryo."_

Her words did not make much sense to him, but her _voice_ did. He had failed to safe her once, but not again. "I won't let them take you," he said, the strain of talking doing nothing to lessen the burning in his throat.

" _Whatever those aliens did once they scavenged the pod, it damaged the systems. Your vital signs- "_

His reflexes kicked in faster than was humanly possible and jerked his body aside. A blue sphere tore through the vacuum, barely missing the green metal of his thorax plating. It moved so _slow_ -before it could impact, he took three large strides forwards and lashed out with his leg, crushing the chest plates of the still glowing offender. There were more of them -always more. Bodies that did not belong to the UNSC, not to the Covenant.

He rounded the corner and encountered a trio of new hostiles, on the other side of the dark hallway. Time slowed to a crawl as the trio raised their weapons and started shouting. Slow. So slow. Barely a second passed between the identification of the hostiles and the resulting fire as his own rifle snapped up, magnitudes faster.

The rapid rattle of his stuttering rifle was felt only through the vibrations in his arm, but the rounds tore through the aliens´ suits with only a small burst. The aliens jerked back as the powerful rounds tore through their helmets.

 _Shields. Invisible. Weak._ His enemy would not get the chance to stop him. There was a dull aching in his left foot as he thundered down the hallway, quickly followed by a sharp twinge of pain in his spine. Irrelevant, inconsequential. Only one thing mattered.

A small screen appeared in his already-malfunctioning Heads-Up Display. A blue bar with white lines that seemed to jump up and down erratically, occasionally turning to red.

" _Chief, your vital signs are through the roof, you need to slow down and listen to me!"_

Her voice cut through the fog in his mind like a knife, forcing him to break his sprint off and come to a standstill. Standing still, not moving…it bothered him more than it should. His muscles were itching, _burning_. He needed to be moving. Time was wasting. He had abandoned her once. Never again. "They took you away. I have to stop them."

" _I'm here, John. You beat them. I'm safe, now look at these vital signs. They're yours and if you don't watch out, they will crash."_

The Chief hesitated, before glancing at the little blue bar. It was a fact; they were his. It didn't matter though; he had been pushing himself to his utmost limits for days now. This - _this_ wouldn't stop him. These enemies were nothing. "Cortana-"

" _Chief, you're not even fully awake right now. Your nervous system is filled with stimulants and drugs meant to stop you from waking up. Someone pulled the plug before you could wake up properly."_

Not awake properly? Nonsense. He was alive and he was fighting. This wasn't a dream, he was lucid.

Stopping near the bodies of the three latest hostiles, the Chief knelt down and checked for anything he could use. They were more of the female hostiles. A thin bodysuit covered their fragile bodies, blue, black…purple. Helmets barely thin enough to sustain an internal air supply…they were different.

"Where are we?" he asked, scanning his environment for additional hostile contacts. "I don't recognize these aliens."

" _I suppose you already know we're still on the Dawn? Or back on the Dawn, that is. As for in which system we are, I can't really tell. Maybe we should visit the Commander again."_

The Chief stood up from the corpses, making sure to picket their weapons. "Which Commander?"

" _The one you talked with just some time ago. Or did you forget that? You forgot that, didn't you? Now do you believe you're basically a sleep-walking child with a gun?"_

He didn't quite follow the metaphor, but her intention was clear. And the fact that he had clearly forgotten some very important events didn't inspire much confidence. His mind was preoccupied with too many things at once -as much as he liked to, he could not analyze this situation and figure it all out when the basics were missing. He needed to go back -back to what he did know. "The Ark…the portal. It cut out. I went into Cryosleep. I told you-"

" _Wake me when you need me. And I tried to -when they tore your pod from its support…there was a lot of damage to the Dawn. Not much I could do."_

The Chief halted, hesitant to keep moving now. Something was wrong. Cortana sounded off. Like she was hiding something from him. "Cortana, I found you at the bridge. They removed you from the console. Are you alright?"

" _I am just fine, thank you very much,"_ Cortana snapped at him without even letting him finish his sentence. Then, a moment later, she seemed to regret that. " _I'm sorry. It's… I tried something to help pass the time in case people were looking for us. It's nothing. Don't break your helmet about it."_

She was definitely hiding something from him. That was a first. He wouldn't press her though; her judgement was better than his. Especially now that he was not even fully aware of his surroundings. It was a dangerous situation and he needed full control over himself if he wanted to survive it. He could recall snippets and pieces of the conversation he had with the woman; he had told her to discard her weapons and she had accepted.

She had also been a senior officer. A Commander...to whom? She hadn't recognized the ship, hadn't recognized _him_. A rogue faction? A distant colony?

It was no use thinking about this. He needed something distinct -an objective, something to work towards. Escape from the _Dawn_. Return to UNSC space. A lifepod? Maybe. Not with the hostiles onboard. Clear them, get onboard their vessel, have Cortana plot them a course back to Earth.

But that was all the reprieve he got. He had barely reached the conclusion or another pair of aliens rushes around the corner, carrying heavy weapons and surrounded in a bright corona of purple light.

The Chief ducked low when the hostiles opened fire, returning fire as he did. He felt that his mind still wasn't quite ready yet and when what had to be a Rocket-Propelled Grenade came screaming right for him, it was up to the subconscious mind to get him in the clear. Reflexes forced his muscles back and away, jerking his body sideways. It was a hair's breadth of a gap that allowed the missile to streak past him, close enough that the heat of it caused his shields to flare. Time slowed to a crawl as the aliens' movements grew sluggish and dull. Easily holding the heavy rifle in one hand, the Chief forced his arm still and pulled the trigger. Two rounds splashed harmlessly across that same shielding, but the third drilled through the hardsuit without hinder.

Behind him, the explosive detonated against the far wall, blowing the metal apart in a soundless explosion. The absence of air did little to stop the lethal wave of shrapnel that subsequently followed, and several pieces of white-hot metal had to be stopped by his shields.

The drain was negligible.

The situation was familiar. Alien hostiles, a clear objective. Cortana guiding him through it. He was reminded of his fights at the first Halo Installation, where he had fought his way through the evacuating _Pillar of Autumn_ to get Cortana to a lifeboat safely. Some things didn't change.

His doubts and worries put at rest by the well-known sensation of combat, the Chief pushed on.

~0~

* * *

Once again, the internal comm unit crackled to life and this time, the odd whining sound at the end of the interference meant that the link was stable again. It was about damn time.

" _Commander,"_ Joker's voice came through. He sounded uncannily concerned. " _I think we're in trouble."_

"I know," Shepard said with a soft growl. The green-armoured soldier had disappeared. Half a minute it had taken her to retrieve her gear and in that half a minute, he had run off again! God knew what sort of trouble he would cause if left unchecked. "Our guest disappeared again."

" _Our...oh shit! Shepard, that is not good. Not good at all. You need to find him!"_

"I know!" Shepard replied. "You don't need to tell me that."

" _Yeah, well, that trouble I talked about? EDI managed to hail that Kowloon-class Freighter. It's not Mercenary at all!"_

Jane´s blood ran cold. She had suspected something like this when she had seen the corpses onboard the Frigate, but…this couldn´t be good. "Not mercenaries? Which moron decides that sending a damn _freighter_ towards a distress call is a good idea?!"

" _Apparently, Asari morons, Commander. It's a training vessel for Asari maidens training to become Commandos. They're responding to…one moment. Go ahead EDI?"_

Asari Commandos? She had to find that green giant, _now_! If he so much as spotted those troops, they would slaughter each other.

" _Alright, Shepard, do we tell the angry Asari Commandos that their research Frigate staffed with hired protection against pirates was violently ravaged? And that we just happened to come across the scene?"_

Shepard's mind raced to find an outcome for this complete and utter mess that they had gotten themselves into. A distress call, a perhaps-human perhaps-synthetic contact that had broken free and slaughtered the crew. Not mercenaries, but scientists and soldiers. Officially-hired guns. As the only ones at the site of the murders, she and her crew would be held responsible. At best, it would be a diplomatic incident. At worst, it meant an interspecies incident between the Systems Alliance and the Asari Republics. Knowing her luck, this might well lead to war. That couldn't happen.

The creature. The armoured soldier. If the Asari found out that it was responsible, they _would_ demand its execution. And if that thing made it worse by slaughtering their trainees... "Joker, tell them to immediately pull their troops out. `

" _Alright. How should I tell them that?"_

"I don't care, just get them out of the derelict! Tell them that it's not safe, that their troops are in immediate danger."

" _Copy that. I'll think of something…do you think they'll believe it when I say there's an Asari-specific version of Scale Itch contamination?"_

"If you want to, I can have Mordn _make_ that when everybody surives." Shepard terminated the connection and, after a brief moment of hesitation, set her commlink to open frequency. "This is Commander Jane Shepard of the Systems Alliance Navy. To anyone hearing this, this derelict is not safe. Repeat: _not_ safe."

With that taken care off, the Commander hurried after the armoured soldier. The hallways weren't that illogical; there was a certain layout to this place and with a bit of thinking, it could be figured out. Armory, bridge, brig, engineering, all of those were locations on every human military vessel. And while she wasn't that certain that a bisected alien vessel would contain the same locations, there was a certain charm in hoping. Who knew; she might get lucky and find him.

As it turned out though, luck was far away. She hadn't gone more than a few hallways when she found the first corpses. The standard Commando outfit, just less decorative. Two Asari, both of them killed with blunt force trauma. A shattered skull, a crushed chest cavity. So much blood…it always sickened her.

Shepard sighed. Wasn't it her duty to protect the innocent? Protect other soldiers against threats like these? If so, wasn't it also her duty to take away the danger? Kill those who threatened the lives of those she had sworn to protect?

Damnit, just the thought about having to take out a confused and provoked individual like him was enough to make her feel like _she_ was the bad guy. She really liked it better when the enemy was obvious; heartless robots or evil zombies. Taking out fellow soldiers…that didn't fly by her.

As Jane continued through the derelict, following a near-literal trail of bodies, her hopes of recovering this situation grew smaller and smaller yet. More would-be Commando bodies. A trio that had been shot through the head. All of the were Asari alright…but this didn't fit here. Something was wrong…she couldn't quite put her finger on it. How had these Commandos figured out about this derelict? Why the Mercenaries?

She contacted the _Normandy_ and recalled the last time she had faced Asari commandos. During her time chasing down Saren, facing off against Matriarch Benezia. Powerful combatants, the best of the best.

Gunned down without a chance. Either these were really inexperienced trainees, or there was something to her new friend that she couldn't quite see. "Joker, do you have anything for me?"

" _No contact Commander. Either they're ignoring us, or they're too busy scurrying around the derelict."_

"Copy that," Shepard said, terminating the link. She sighed and hefted her SMG, pushing deeper into the wreckage. Following the bodies was easier than she had thought, however it was still a grim way of reaching her objective. Something kept nagging at her, right at the back of her mind. It felt like a memory trying to resurface, or a dream fading away. She just couldn't grasp what it meant, but her instincts had saved her more often than not. She decided to keep off the comm channel for now, just in case.

She caught movement directly ahead of her and she broke into a flat sprint, chasing after the individual only known as 'Chief'. Vaguely aware that she was heading into a large mess hall, Shepard was thankful to see that there weren't any biotic explosions or other signs of Commando combat.

Hopefully that didn't mean it was over already...

Shepard gritted her teeth, telling herself that such a thing wasn't possible. She'd be in time to fix this -she always was. She just needed the chance to resolve this peacefully, without bloodshed.

Finding the armoured alien on his own wouldn't have been as bad as finding him together with the dead bodies of another two Asari soldiers. Young ones, from the looks of it. He was standing right next to them, dropping the shattered remains of what had once been a Revenant.

Jane shook her head. _Such a waste_. "Chief, stand down! You're killing innocent soldiers!"

The very instant Shepard entered the mess hall, the armoured giant turned around and aimed his weapon at her. The sheer speed of his movement would have impressed Shepard, had this time not been so urgent.

" _They initiated hostilities first,"_ he replied. His voice sounded gravelly and heavy. " _They are hostile alien lifeforms, Commander."_

Hostile alien lifeforms? As opposed to _what?"_ Chief, listen to me! These people aren't your enemies, just stand down and-"

Unfortunately, the armoured alien would not find out what would happen if he just stood down. The doors on the other side of the mess had exploded outwards, blasting the metal doors off their hinges in a blue flash of light. More Asari soldiers poured inside of the hall, but only some of them were actually Commandos. Others carried heavy weapons and shotguns and some of them even melee weapons. Odd. Asari in close quarters? Without biotics?

The Chief took aim with his rifle and Shepard quickly stepped up to him in an attempt to stop him. But he didn't fire -he waited. He stood at the ready with his rifle raised up to his shoulder, but nobody fired. Had she come through to him?

Somehow she doubted that.

However, now she had the exact same problem with the Asari soldiers. She rapidly hit the global frequency and snapped, "This is Commander Shepard of the System Alliance Navy! Everybody, hold your fire! The situation is under control!"

The first response was only a heartbeat away. " _I don't care for your identity, human! The being is coming with us!"_

Jane increased her grip on her SMG, staring at one of the Asari who arrogantly strolled down the mess hall, holding a large Revenant LMG in her arms. She took a breath and exhaled, subtly readying her biotics. "Look, this situation is a misunderstanding. I don't want this to become a diplomatic incident!"

The tension between the two groups grew considerably as the what to be the Commanding Officer of the Commando squad gave her reply. " _Easy. Give us the creature and we won't blame the Systems Alliance for the lives that were lost today."_ Then, for some reason, the Asari added, " _Yes, as soon as one of them moves, open fire."_

Shepard raised an eyebrow, but she did not comment. An Asari Commando forgetting to switch to a private channel? Unlikely. "I can't do that. What's your name?"

" _Why is that important?"_

The other Asari were taking up good firing positions. This was going to escalate. "I'm curious. Look, your soldiers pulled him out of his cryogenic sleep. He is confused, away from his people. We can work this out."

" _Keep her talking. Open fire as soon as I give the order. Prioritize Shepard, take the creature alive."_

Did the Asari not realize that she was talking on the open channel? Jane could hear her. The Chief could _hear_ her.

She did not want to resolve this situation with violence; enough soldiers had died today. But if these Asari was not willing to listen to reason…if was going to turn into a firefight, she had to pick a side. And she knew which one that would be. "Do you want the lives of your soldiers to have been in vain? Because that's what's going to happen if you keep fighting! This can end right now, if you just lower your guns!"

" _That's a good idea, human. Throw your guns away, then we can talk."_ To her squad mates -or so the Commander presumed- she said, " _Get ready."_

Despite the situation, Shepard smirked. Get ready? Well then, if she insisted. "Fine. If I drop my weapons, will you let him go?"

" _Just do it!"_

For the second time in five minutes, Shepard let go of her SMG and gave it a gentle nudge, watching it float away in the absence of gravity. "There. Now we can talk, right?"

" _Do it._ "

A surge of adrenaline spiked and Shepard lashed out at the exact same time as the lead Asari did. Her biotics flared to life in an explosion of light and clashed with the biotic energy of her enemy with enough force to dent and singe the armour plating around them. Tables were torn free of the floor, loose pieces of shrapnel went everywhere and the other Asari opened fire.

Jane was forced to prematurely cut her biotics down and leap at the side to avoid the gunfire. Her kinetic barriers stopped the few rounds that did hit her and she quickly vaulted over one of the upturned tables. She took a deep breath and engaged her biotics again, jerking het SMG over towards her. She peered over her improvised cover and took a shot at the Asari leader, but she disappeared in a flash of blue light, only to reappear a few feet to the side, hidden safely behind one of the metal pillars that seemed to support the superstructure of the ship.

 _Damnit._

She glanced over her cover again to identify the enemy leader, but the amount of gunfire that had been pouring into her direction had decreased dramatically in the two seconds that had passed. The reason why was equally obvious as disturbing.

With almost machine-like efficiency, the green-armoured giant picked off the various Asari soldiers one by one. Two of them charged at him, supported by their biotics and their equivalent of knives, or machetes. Thin, oddly blurry and charged with energy. They parted and jumped from left to right with that biotic dashing ability, attempting to surround the hulking titan of a soldier, but he responded with such _speed_ that they might as well have been standing still.

He deflected the first attack with a casual gesture of his hand and stepped closer to the Asari CQC specialist, throwing several punches to her chest and head faster than any human could respond. By the time Shepard realized that he hadn't necessarily _deflected_ the first attack as he had shattered her wrist and avoided the strike altogether. The second Asari didn't even have the time to correct her movements as he simply sidestepped her and lashed out with his leg, his boot impacting on her helmet and sending her crashing into the nearest pillar.

It was as if his body didn´t work the same as the rest. His movements were so alien, for a lack of a better description. Despite the occasional small slip-up that had to be the result of some injury, the armoured behemoth combined lightning reflexes with a prowess exceeding that of even Krogan.

A flicker of movement triggered Shepard´s own reflexes and she threw herself backwards just as one of the Commandos vaulted over her cover, slamming a biotically-charged fist at the spot she had been using as cover.

She tore her sidearm from her holster and opened fire, but the Asari closed the distance before she could pop her shields and clashed with the Asari Commando, intent on hitting her with another charged strike.

Jane reached out and slammed her fist against her assailant's head, charged with biotic energy. She sent the Commando staggering and quickly followed up with a snap-kick to the warrior's chest, before she dove underneath her outstretched arm and slammed her knee against her chest.

The Asari flinched and attempted to jerk back, but Jane did not let her. She wedged her elbow around her neck and _jerked_ it back, feeling a vibrating _crack_ run through her arm. The body went limp.

" _Shepard, friendlies at your six!"_

 _Garrus_ , Jane thought with a hint of relief. He was alright!

She didn't get any time to feel glad for the arrival of her old friend. The leader of this fireteam seemed to have singled her out as the biggest threat and was now steadily advancing on her, firing her Revenant rifle as she did.

The hyper-velocity rounds tore through the space around her and her kinetic barriers quickly dropped under that hail of fire. She quickly erected a biotic barrier around her body and dove to the side, rolling over her shoulders as soon as she made contact with the floor. An idea popped into her head with all the suddenness of a bullet and she disengaged the various magnetic strip on her body, completely detaching herself from the floor. She braced her legs and jumped at one of the pillars, grabbing it with both hands and pulling herself around it for cover.

Jane caught the side of more dead bodies, courtesy of the green alien. A team of trained elite Asari wasn't even slowing him down; as he shot two of the aliens through their heads, he ducked low to dodge an attack that he could not possibly have seen coming and a rocket flashed through the space he had just occupied. He then whirled around and kicked off against the floor, crossing the several meters between himself and his assailant in the blink of an eye.

Shepard didn't need to see what happened next. No, her own fight was with the crazy leading a team of nutcases. The Asari Commando, who seemed to have made this situation into her own personal grudge.

Jane pushed off from the pillar and ejected the heatsink from her Carnifex, taking a few moments to spot her quarry.

Said quarry seemed to have lost track of her, instead deciding to sneak around the Chief's flanks and prep two grenades. Shepard's temper flared when she saw that and her barrier rippled in response. She would use her own team as a distraction simply to give herself an advantage? Using explosives on a foe her own allies were fighting in close quarters? Disgusting. Asari Republics or not, she wouldn't be leaving this derelict alive.

Reaching with her hand, Shepard pulled the twin grenades out of the air before they could even get halfway towards the alien soldier. She then threw them right back at the Asari, who had mere seconds to dive for cover before they detonated.

Taking half her barriers with them. Good enough.

Jane pushed herself away from her pillar and leapt for the Asari, not about to let her escape. She vaulted over one of the tables and reactivated her armour's magnetic strips, allowing her boot to come down with much more force.

The second she made contact with the floor, she sent a biotic blast through her leg and through the floor. Metal ruptured, tables were blown away and the Asari staggered backwards under the force. It didn't take her long to recover though and she quickly took aim with her Revenant-

Only Jane was faster. She closed the distance with a cry that went unheard and lashed out with her other leg, sending another wave of destructive biotic energy washing over the Asari, who quickly and narrowly managed to dash aside to dodge it.

Something exploded behind the Commander, sending waves of shrapnel through the mess hall. Her barrier flared in protest, but it remained active. The same couldn't be said for the Asari commandeer though; her barrier dissipated with such force that Shepard could _feel_ the latent biotic waves washing over her through her armour. Whoever this Asari was, she was strong. Not as powerful as Benezia had been, but strong.

So strong in fact that Jane could not allow her to recover from the initial assault. She knew how gifted the Asari were in fighting with biotics; humans generally couldn't compare to them. With raw power alone, she wouldn't win this.

But she did not fight with raw partner alone. Jane had always been creative in combat and when she had first manifested biotic potential, she had only taken that creativity further. Her young age at the start of the training had certainly helped with that.

She placed her boot on the floor and dashed forwards in a burst of biotics, thrusting the palm of her hand at the stomach of her foe. The Asari twirled, narrowly dodging the strike and countering with one of her own. Jane easily dodged that strike, as well as the second, but then the Asari moved through the air in a flash of blue light and for a split-second, Jane lost track of her foe.

Something impacted at her side, stronger than a Krogan charge. Jane felt her lungs painfully contract and she tumbled over her side, quickly slamming the palm of her hand against the floor to steady herself. Instead of retreating and catching her breath, Jane made the split-second decision of going on the offensive. She pushed herself up from her half-prone position on the floor, kicking at the Asari to drive her back. Jane had to ignore the burning pain in her side, but it wasn't the first time. Wouldn't be the last either.

The commander threw a biotically-charged fist at Shepard's face, but she ducked low and grabbed the arm, before kicking at the Asari's midsection with her leg engulfed in a corona of blue light. Something gave away underneath her leg when she connected and the Asari jerked back, reaching for her abdomen.

Still holding the Asari by her arm, Jane heaved and jerked her off her feet. She followed up with a point-blank biotic blast, annihilating the last of her enemy's protective layers and throwing her in the air. With one smooth gesture, Shepard grabbed her Carnifex, took aim and pulled the trigger twice. The two rounds punched clean through the Asari´s helmet, ending the fight at last.

Shepard immediately spun around to support the Chief, adrenaline snuffing out the pain and sharpening her senses. The grim feeling that the death of the Commando left her with stood in sharp contrast with Garrus loudly proclaiming that they could 'scratch' another one.

Shepard watched as one of the Asari feebly attempted to crawl back on her feet, holding her hands in the air in the universal 'surrender' sign. Had she been the one to encounter the maiden during the fight, she would have shown mercy. It appeared that the concept was still somewhat strange to the chief; he shot the Asari through her head with a rather oversized pistol without even glancing her way, before turning towards Garrus.

The Turian extended his hand and stepped towards the Chief, who replied by raising his pistol again-

 _Garrus._

Jane reacted before she could feel any of the concern and horror she felt a second later. She swung her arm through the air, grabbing a hold of her Turian friend and sweeping him right off his feet, throwing him behind one of the pillars. "Chief, no! Garrus is with us!"

The armoured behemoth did not lower his gun as he gave his reply, the golden visor that was his face never leaving the metal frame where Garrus had smartly taken cover.

Silently praising her companion for his level-headedness to refrain from shooting back, Shepard strode towards the Chief. He was so _large_ ; easily seven to eight feet tall. That golden visor of his oddly reflected the ravaged interior of the mess hall, including the craters that had been left in the wake of her own fight.

"I'll let your execution of surrendering enemy combatants slide this time," Shepard angrily told him, trying to keep her voice level. "But you do _not_ threaten my team again!"

When the massive soldier glanced down at her, the distorted image of the mess hall shifted, now reflecting the Commander's own face back at her. It was an unnerving sensation that was made even worse when he didn't reply. He just…stared at her.

At that point, Jane hesitated. How much of this 'man' was human, if even organic? Was he a synthetic? An AI wielding a highly-specialized combat platform, like the Geth?

She didn't back down though. Not until the Chief gave his reply. Which, after thirty seconds of enduring silence, he did. " _Your team?"_

"Yes," she replied. "A team I'm putting together to fight the Collectors. Do you know them?" Was her idea of a confused and lonely soldier wrong? What _was_ this 'Chief'?

" _No,"_ the green warrior replied. " _Commander, do you know the UNSC?"_

Jane blinked a few times. UNSC…what was that? "No, I can't say I do. Is that the community of your species? The UNSC?"

He didn't answer her question. At least he didn't shoot it down either. " _Collectors?"_

"A race working for the Reapers. They're targeting our colonies, kidnapping thousands. I'm fighting to stop them." As much as she wanted to stay and talk, this place wasn't exactly the safest. "Listen, you don't have anywhere to go right now. If you want, I can drop you off where your people can find you."

His answer came less than a heartbeat later. " _Why?"_

Not taken aback by the rather blunt question, Shepard simply shrugged. "Some bad things happened today and they happened because of you. Whoever you are, you have the right to make your own decisions."

After that, the Chief went silent again. Contemplating her offer or thinking about his own involvement? Jane had to be honest with herself; she couldn't just ignore this creature and leave him behind. Not just because he was a soldier beyond anything she had expected, but also because he had to have a home to return to. And who knew how long he had been in cryo? The Asari had known about him for some reason. Known enough to send a team of Commandos after him. Their deaths were wrong, but this wasn't his fault. At least, not completely.

" _Yeah,"_ Garrus tentatively said, stepping away from the pillar. " _I think I'm going to scout our six. Check if any of those Asari got behind our flank."_

"You do that, Garrus," Shepard replied through a private channel. "And thank you."

" _Any day. Just warn me next time a Turian face will offense someone, alright?"_

Shepard smiled. "Sure."

As Garrus hurried to move away -followed by the Chief's gaze all the way to the exit- Shepard said, "You know, I could use a soldier like you. If you feel like you owe me…or need to repay me for giving you a ride...I could use your help."

" _To fight the Collectors."_

"And the Reapers too. It's not going to step with mankind; the Reapers threaten the entire galaxy."

" _You fight for humanity?"_

An odd question. Why wouldn't someone fight for their own race? Were his own morals so different? "Of course. And I'm recruiting everyone who will fight with me. I know it doesn't concern you, but- "

" _After we defeat the Collectors, can you bring me to UNSC-controlled space?"_

This time, the sudden response was very much welcome. Jane hadn't expected the behemoth to actually want to join her. At least, not just like that. Hmm…relieving. "If you tell us where that is, I'll get you there. If I have to take you there myself. That's a promise."

" _Commander Shepard,"_ the soldier repeated, like he was contemplating her name. " _There are survivors onboard the alien vessel. Noncombatants."_

"I know," she replied. "Thanks. Are you coming?"

" _There are weapons and munition onboard this vessel. It would advise taking them with us."_

Shepard sighed. In a way, it was like she was talking to Grunt. "Are you coming?" She asked, offering her hand to the armoured giant.

There was a brief moment of hesitation, before he took it. " _Affirmative."_

 _~0~_

* * *

 **[SECURITY ACCESS GRANTED. UNSC TECHNOLOGICAL INFORMATION CODEX UNLOCKED]**

 **SUBJECT: MARINE BODY ARMOUR**

 _Twenty-eight years of total warfare supplied the United Nations Space Command with many thousands of bodies and enemy vehicles. The protection that the Covenant armour systems offered was beyond anything the UNSC had ever seen at that point; even the most basic infantry armour offered significant protection against ballistic weaponry. The protection against modern weapons was one of several reasons why the economical costs of the Human-Covenant war were so astronomical._

 _Attempts to reverse-engineer the advanced materials that were used for these protective properties were unsuccessful at first. And as the war raged on and Marine casualties rose into the millions, most of these prototype defense systems were lost. By 2550, soldiers were fighting with taped-together pieces of obsolete body armour instead of new and advanced models, contrary to what the Office of Naval Intelligence had planned._

 _This changed when the war ended. Unggoy carapaces, Sangheili suits and Mgalekgolo plating became available to scientists without the looming threat of extinction, offering new paths for Marine body armour systems._


	5. Chapter 5: Divergence

" _Two-Sierra zero-zero-nine's Augmentation procedures will commence in thirty minutes. Is there anything you wish to point out before we start, Miss Sunfield?"_

" _Yes, I am rather curious about the process of the surgery. All the SPARTAN-II augmentations are included, aren't they?"_

" _Yes ma'am, they are."_

" _How are you so certain that the subject will survive the surgery at this age? There is no guarantee that her body-"_

" _Two reasons ma'am. We have achieved some key developments on the area of bio-augmentations. The wash-out rate is lower than ten percent. Also, nine has proven to be exceptionally hardy. She won't give up that easily._

" _I see. Be careful and wish her luck."_

Conversation between Mental health Specialist Jennifer Sunfield and anonymous chief scientist member, 2542

~0~

* * *

The Master Chief watched silently as the various crewmembers filed in and out of the dark remains of the _Forward Unto Dawn,_ working quickly and efficiently to move all the assorted weapons back to the Commander's vessel. Not a single one of them managed to ignore him when they walked past him, glancing at him from underneath their vacuum-protective masks with the same glances he had come to associate with civilians and noncombatants.

" _You know,"_ Cortana chimed in when he watched the seventh batch of crewmembers bring in their latest haul, " _you could just ignore them and visit the ship."_

"These are UNSC assets," The Chief replied. If anyone had to know about the importance of keeping UNSC technology clandestine in the face of new and potentially hostile alien lifeforms, it was her.

" _Yeah, about that…you offered your assistance to this Commander. Did you ever stop to think what would come after that? This isn't the UNSC."_

"I know." Now that he had had the time to calm down and just think, it became clear to him that he might have woken up in a difficult situation. Escalating hostilities aside, there was multiple military organizations in play that had nothing to do with the UNSC. There was too much for him to make sense of at once. Too much information he could not handle yet.

Aliens. Not Covenant. Humanoid. Too many variables.

Commander Jane Shepard. She spoke his language, but also the aliens'. She claimed to be on his side, yet her crew existed out of aliens. Her weapons were kinetic in nature, but not UNSC.

Systems Alliance. Possible segregation of Insurrectionists? If so, she was a threat. But she was his only chance out of this situation. She had a ship, she was a human. She had risked her life for him and she could get him back to the UNSC. If this turned out to be a trap, he could neutralize her.

"We don't have an alternative," he told Cortana. "Only to clear the Commander's ship and have you interface."

He didn't need to tell Cortana that there had been enough human deaths in the war. Johnson's death was still fresh on his mind. Another weight pressing down on his shoulder. No more bloodshed unless it was absolutely necessary.

Cortana sighed, but the Chief wasn't sure if she was amused or frustrated. " _Well, it's not like they can salvage anything from this dump. I wiped all the data after we went through the portal. Unless you don't like aliens leaving smeary fingerprints on your rifles?"_

Ignoring her comment, the Chief said, "Did you ever hear of the Systems Alliance?"

" _No. It has to be a prominent organization, seeing how the Commander and those aliens knew each other. How odd that she never heard of the UNSC…assuming for a moment she spoke the truth, that means she must have never heard of the Covenant as well."_

The Spartan hadn't even thought about that; if Shepard didn't know the UNSC, she also didn't know the war. Nor the Covenant. This couldn't be a splinter organization either, then. That left only two alternatives, neither of which were promising. Either Commander Shepard was lying to him, which automatically meant she had secondary objectives, or she came from a planet where nobody had ever heard of the Human-Covenant war. And with a rank like that, it was highly unlikely that she assumed her position after the war. Any military leader had to know their history and if the Commander dint know about the war…she must be from outside.

How could a human be from outside the war? That didn't make any sense. None of this made any sense.

The Chief felt a hint of frustration at his current situation. New aliens, new hostiles, a complete new environment. For all he knew, he was surrounded by an enemy strike force. And the Commander was the key to all of this. She was lying, or she had grown up outside the UNSC colonies. And that was only possible through a gap in space, or a gap in time.

He had to know -no, he _needed_ to know how much time had passed. It was the only way to make sense out of this. "Cortana?"

" _Yes, John?"_

"Can you make a guess? What date is it? How long did the cryo last?"

" _That…" Hesitation?_ "… _I can't say for sure. Going through the portal fried pretty much every piece of tech on the Dawn. There isn't anything I can use to measure the relative amount of time that went by, nor the changes of age of the Dawn's materials."_

He trusted her word on that, but he didn't like how she brushed off the issue without thinking of actual solutions. Maybe she was recovering from having been brusquely removed from the systems. I

A contact popped up on his motion tracker and he glanced over his shoulder with the slightest of turn, making it appear as if he hadn't moved at all.

It was the Commander, oddly enough. Shouldn't she be back with her crew?

" _Chief,"_ she greeted him when she was close enough, still wearing that red-grey armour.

 _What does she want?_ "Commander," he curtly replied.

" _I wanted to show you your quarters aboard the Normandy."_

The Chief frowned at that. He had no need for his own quarters; a simple spot in the barracks would suffice. _"Did your crew salvage the gear?"_

There was a noticeable pause before Shepard replied. " _Not all of it. I've seen some of the ammo your guns use. I think Jacob might be able to make more, if he gets some examples. How much do you need?"_

Jacob. Another human name. The quartermaster? If he was going to assist the Commander on her mission to 'protect mankind', as she put it, he was going to need multiple weapon platforms. Even if ammo wasn't a problem, he was not going to risk a malfunction that would leave him without functioning weapons. "Unless creating replications of the weapons is a possibility, I do not want to risk it. We should take as much as we can take." It wasn't as if someone else was going to need the ordnance now.

" _Right. Suit yourself then. At any rate, I've got some questions I'm gonna need answered soon, so if you don't mind…?"_

The Chief quickly picked up on the unspoken question and replied, "Classified information will remain clandestine."

" _If only they could say the same,"_ Cortana joked. Or at least, he thought it was a joke.

" _Of course. You don't have to answer anything you don't want to, as long as it doesn't put the team in danger,"_ Shepard told him and turned around, back to the airlock. _"Coming?"_

After a split-second of hesitation, the Chief walked after her. Her crewmembers had been taking dropships back and forth between the _Dawn_ and the _Normandy_ to transport the various weapons and pieces of equipment he needed, so it made sense that she had come with a dropship as well. A Commander serving directly with her troops? Intriguing.

" _She seems nice,"_ Cortana chimed in, much to the Chief´s surprise.

"How so?"

" _She's not directly trying to kill us, for instance. That would qualify as nice."_

That didn't have to mean anything, but he understood what Cortana meant.

" _In the meantime, I am calibrating your suit and scanning for any malfunctions that might have been caused by the premature thawing. Your vital signs have stabilized somewhat, but not fully. I recommend you take some rest and ignore any headaches that might or might not be the side-effect of the recalibrations."_

It felt good to have her at his side again, but her presence also made him feel somewhat uneasy. Throughout the nonstop fighting on Earth and on the Ark, he had been experiencing what could only be described as hallucinations. Vivid, auditory and visual hallucinations. Of her, of the Gravemind. Both. The worry she expressed about the premature thaw was bad enough. It wouldn't do to have her distracted by that. Best to keep it to himself.

The Commander was waiting for him at the dropship, which looked and was shaped like a flying brick. Crude, not at all aerodynamic. It appeared unarmed and was only half the size of a Pelican dropship. The bright, blue tint didn't do much to justify its design either.

He had never seen this design before. Whatever organization this Systems Alliance was, it had developed spacefaring technology that really had nothing to do with the UNSC. Even the Insurrection used tech derived from the military.

The Commander wasn't alone. She stood together with that same alien as before. It stood over six feet tall, but its appearance was also humanoid. Nothing Covenant about him. His nonreflective helmet turned towards the Chief before quickly moving back to the hallway.

The alien stood close. In the cramped quarters of the dropship, much too close. Its presence triggered the Chief´s instinct badly, and he had to constantly suppress the urge to kill it. It had helped them during the fight, it had the trust of the Commander.

It was a threat. As such, the Chief never took his eyes off of it. How? How was it possible that humans were working with aliens? The Elites were one thing, but these things he had never seen before. It looked like the creatures in the alien strike group he had eliminated back in that other vessel, on his search for Cortana. So what was the situation with his species? Were they friendly to these humans or was this individual just an isolated case?

" _I am detecting various signals coming from the inside of this vessel, as well as outside of it. In addition, the Commander and the life form both seem to carry wrist-mounted computers, exuding rudimentary signals as well. Hmm…interesting."_

Wrist-mounted computers? Like the TACPAD design?

" _So Chief,"_ Shepard asked him, still through the comm channel. " _How come you speak my language, but not anyone else's? As far as I know, it's a human language."_

" _That's an extraordinary notion,"_ Cortana immediately remarked. _"A human who has not grown up within the Unified Earth Government system, capable of speaking the exact language that most UNSC personnel speaks? That's a puzzler. Chief, I advise that you let me work on this, while you find a data record onboard the Normandy. From there, I might be able to access the ship's files."_

"Copy that." Letting Cortana figure this out was a better option than getting distracted with it himself. There were more urgent matters he had to focus on anyway. To Shepard, he said, "Unclear."

" _Uhh…right."_

If she didn't believe him, she didn't show. Good; there were other things he wanted to know. "Commander." With Cortana concentrating on the conundrum of non-UNSC humans living with aliens, there was only one thing that he had to know. "Who are the Collectors?"

Shepard grunted before replying. " _How new are you to the Citadel community?"_

"Citadel?"

" _Right then. Ehm…the Citadel…yeah. How far has your civilization come in this galaxy?"_

" _Curious. Shepard doesn't seem to have realized that you're a human. That explains a certain level of her communication…judging from that communication, she must assume we belong to a newly-evolved species."_

He got that already. Assuming that the _Dawn_ was still in the Milky Way galaxy, mankind had not colonized outside the Orion arm. So had they ended up outside the Orion arm? "Not far." The truth about the war and the Covenant would only make this more difficult.

Both the Commander as the alien suddenly braced themselves. The Chief, mimicking their movement, reached the conclusion that they must have reached the _Normandy_ , mere seconds before the dropship lurched to a sudden halt and sent the alien stumbling forwards.

" _Well, it's a complicated story,"_ Shepard said as the hatch of the ship opened up, revealing a large, open room with scattered crates in the middle and several other dropships mounted at the side, ready to be launched. What looked like an observation deck had been built on the other of the room, a few meters above the ground. Was this the hangar bay? " _Really complicated."_

Most of the crewmen had already left, through a few were still hauling crates with supplies from the other dropships. The alien said something to Shepard and then walked straight towards the door at the other end of what the Chief assumed to be the hangar bay, leaving them on their own.

Shepard crossed her arms and leant back against one of the larger crates. Then, she reached for her helmet and took it off.

There was no denying it now. She was human. Her skin was light, but not unhealthily so. Strands of blood-red hair brushed past her high cheek-bones when she ran a hand through her hair, which didn't reach past her jawline. Though her face could be deemed 'pretty', it was her eyes that got the Chief's attention. They were bright and green, just like Linda's.

Actually, she looked a lot like Linda. Only on the outside though. Her hair, her eyes…not her stance or composure. She was definitely a soldier, but she carried herself with an air of command, a sense of purpose.

She glanced at him, as if waiting. "You can take your helmet off, too."

Ah. "I'll pass."

Shepard raised an eyebrow, but did not comment otherwise on that. "Fine. Alright…the galaxy is a big place, Chief. And not everybody is friendly. By now, I 'm sure you got that notion."

The Master Chief believed that the notion was currently covering his armour with patches of purple and blue. "Affirmative."

"A long time ago, some of the ehm…the _earlier_ alien species found a massive space station built by an advanced, extent civilization called the 'Protheans."

" _Note to self. Protheans equal Forerunners in this section of space. Beware of fanatical alien extremists, alright?_

The Chief resisted the urge to slap the side of his helmet. Jokes about the Covenant were the _last_ thing he needed right now.

Shepard, completely unaware of Cortana's reflections, continued undisturbed. "They are the Salarians, Turians and Asari, two of which you have encountered today." She paused. "And killed, I suppose. They called it the 'Citadel' and quickly made it their home."

"Their home?" the Chief asked. That sounded an awful lot like the Ark. But he would have encountered those aliens on the Ark, if they had been there. Unless these aliens were just the Covenant races with different names. But how could Shepard _not_ know the UNSC and still know the Covenant races? Cortana said she would focus on that paradox, but he just couldn't imagine how this was possible.

Shepard nodded and the corners of her mouth pulled up in a sly smile. "The political, cultural and financial capital of the galactic community. Most other, newer species even maintain embassies on the Citadel."

A galactic, diplomatic organization that was centered around this one space station? That was the most strategically inept idea he had heard in years. It only took one attack on this station to cripple not only their leadership, but also their economy. It did not bode well for whatever alien leaders were ruling this community. "Is your species a part of this community as well?"

"Humanity joined the Citadel, yes. Unfortunately, things aren't that simple."

Of course. They never were. How had the UNSC never encountered this hub of alien species? It really sounded a lot like the Covenant on the Ark, or even High Charity. It wasn't possible, but it was still an odd thought. "You said something was threatening mankind. The Collectors."

Shepard sighed and her air of confidence and authority faded somewhat. "Yeah…that's the thing. I know this sounds crazy, and I won't blame you for not believing, but the galaxy is stuck in a cycle of extinctions."

" _That sounds ominous. Do you think she means the Halo Installations?"_

" _Every_ fifty-thousand years, a species of incredibly-advanced machines invades the worlds of sufficiently-advanced species and slaughter them. No warning, nobody to explain. One day, they just drop out of the sky. We call them the Reapers."

" _Oh…so not the Halo Array. That's a problem."_

Not the Halo Array. That sounded a lot like the Covenant, actually. Had Shepard encountered the species of the Covenant and given them a different name? The Reapers? If so, what was this thing about the machines and the cycle? This wasn't making any sense.

Shepard was looking too grim to be lying to him. There were subtle signals in her body that this subject troubled her greatly, which she wasn't able to mask properly The pulling of the muscles in her jawline, the slight grimace on her face.

Machines…machines…not Forerunner, not Covenant. Not the Flood. What was she talking about? Who was humanity fighting and why?

"The Reapers," said the Chief. "So the Citadel went to war?"

Shepard uttered a short, bitter laugh. 'War? No. They refused to see the evidence."

 _What?_

"After everything that happened, they denied the Reapers' existence." She sighed again, dropping some of that highly-visible tension. "I suppose this is a lot to take in. I just wanted you to know who you were going to face, fighting on our side. The Reapers threaten everyone, Chief. The Collectors are just their attack dogs. But they have a nasty bite."

"When is the next operation?" asked the Spartan. If Shepard was telling the truth, these Reapers and Collectors were a threat to the UNSC as well. A threat more distinct than the Covenant had to be at this very moment. The last he had seen of the Covenant, it had been disbanded at the death of Truth. The Elites had been fighting at humanity's side.

He had to see it with his own eyes, he supposed.

Shepard smirked. "I like your attitude. But, I think you still need to get used to living on this ship. You can meet the rest of the crew, or visit the armory if you want to check up on your weapons. Guess you can grab some food while you're at it-" she suddenly paused and her smirk disappeared. "Ooh…yeah. Food. That's ah…a problem. What does your kind need? For sustenance, I mean. Hell, is this air safe to breathe for you?"

Her worries were justified, but ultimately needless. But simply telling her that he was human would cause more problems than it would solve. The solution lay in his silence.

Shepard stared at him for a few seconds and, when it became clear that he wasn't going to provide her with an answer, she continued. "Because, in Citadel space, we have species based on lev-amino acids and dextro-amino acids. But if they consume each other's food, that will cause a severe allergic reaction." She paused. "Which will result in death, I guess. Ring a bell?"

John wasn't able to focus on Shepard's entire story, because Cortana dropped in halfway through and started holding a science lecture. " _Hold on, that makes no sense. The only difference between levo and dextro is their chirality and that does not cause any death-related problems. Sure, all amino acids are left-handed, disregarding some micro-organisms, but what about sugars? They are right-handed. Dextro-based right-handed. If you were to consume Spartan-sized meals of dextro-based alien food, your body would simply break it down to levo-based proteins. Whoever came up with this got themselves a major artistic license in biology. Chemistry as well."_

While he could disregard a lot of her technical slang, the basic gist of it was that Shepard's proposal wouldn't harm him. Of course, Cortana's definition of harmless was a bit different from his. He wasn't willing to put it to the test.

"A basic form of sustenance will do," he eventually told Shepard. "And an oxygen-based environment will do fine. Ma'am."

Shepard crossed her arms. "Uh-huh? Right then. You still need an oxygen-based environment to actually _live_ in. A war isn't fought in days, or even weeks. I'm sure you know that."

The Master Chief did not need to be told that. "I do."

"Good. Then let's find you a place to stay. I'm sure we've got room…somewhere."

" _Actually, I like this place."_

The Chief recognized that voice. Cortana sounded like that whenever she found something that could keep her occupied for a few minutes. "You do?"

" _Yes. It's large and open, while distant enough to offer the rest of the crew no reason to drop by."_

"And?"

" _And I guess there are some interesting ports I could interface with."_

There it was.

The Chief didn´t have any reason to decline that suggestion. And not just because her logic was solid, either. "Commander. The space in this hangar bay will do."

" _I put together several arguments you can use to increase the odds of permission by seventy-three percent. It might even be eighty-three percent, if you ask her nicely."_

As it turned out, there was no need for him to ask nicely. He didn't even need to use Cortana's arguments. Shepard considered his idea for exactly one point seven seconds before she shrugged. "Sure."

Her response actually took the Chief aback somewhat. He settled for silently nodding, mostly because he wasn't one to second-guess an officer's motives, but also because he was rapidly growing tired of all this talking. His throat was aching and throbbing, worse than normal. Most likely a side-effect of the premature awakening.

"Sure, why not," Shepard then repeated, turning away from the Chief and glancing at the elevator at the end of the hangar bay. "The Main Battery room is fine…the Life Support room is fine…why not the hangar bay too?"

"If it is…inconvenient…" the Chief started, bur Shepard shook her head.

"Nah, it's fine. You'll find this outfit to be a somewhat…unconventional one. Get some rest, gather your things, report to doctor Chakwas if you feel you sustained any injuries." She turned back to face him and this time, she offered him another genuine smile. "Welcome aboard the team, Chief."

With that formal greeting out of the way, the Commander left, leaving the Spartan to wonder what he had gotten himself involved with. It was a military vessel for sure, but…everything was off. Even Shepard sounded a bit…wrong. It wasn't just her completely foreign accent, or the way she acted around him. It was something else, and he couldn't quite grasp what it was.

" _What do you think she means with an unconventional outfit?"_ Cortana asked him as soon as Shepard had left.

John didn't know. In the past, unconventional warfare meant guerilla fights, training local militia. No regular armies. So did that classify the Commander and her crew as Special Forces? "She had aliens in her group. She could have meant that."

" _Could be. Still working on the thinking. Find me a port and I will see what I can find on our new friends. You do your thing and try to get settled in."_

Settled in a military ship to work with aliens to fight a new threat to mankind, without knowing when or where he was? "I'm on it."

~0~

* * *

For Commander Shepard, it was never fully certain when a new problem would arise. It was impossible for things to go completely according to plan when you worked with Cerberus, and the next problem was always just around the corner with a volatile and atypical crew like this. So when she had managed to finally get the newest addition to her team all settled in in a place where he wouldn't be disturbed for the coming days, she wasn't really surprised when the next problem raised its head.

"Commander, Miranda would like to speak with you," Kelly Chambers informed her right as she stepped up to the galaxy map to plot her next course.

Shepard nodded. "Thanks Kelly. I'm on it."

On a mission where death could be seen as an almost-certain outcome, it was imperative that everybody trusted each other. If this team was going to have any chance at beating the Collectors, Shepard had to be sure that she could put her life in the hands of each and every one of them. Chief included, Miranda included. With that in mind, she made her way towards the Crew Quarters, were Operative Lawson was sitting in her office, waiting.

"Commander," she greeted. "I take it your mission on the derelict was a success?"

Jane crossed her arms and gave Miranda a look. Since when did Miranda call het just to ask her that? Fine. She could play along. "It was. Samara took some hits, but she'll be alright. Mordin has some uncanny experience with Asari physiology."

"Good to hear," Miranda said, not at all looking like this was a good thing. "I wanted to talk to you about your -our- latest addition."

"Go ahead," the Commander replied. Even Grunt would get suspicious right about now, had he been here.

"This…Chief, as he calls himself…do you think it is safe to keep him here?"

Shepard fought off the urge to shoot Miranda's claim down immediately and settled for merely sighing. "Not any safer than keeping Jack or Grunt on the Normandy. What's your point?"

The Operative got up and turned to face the large window in the office. "None of the individuals we recruited for this operation actually managed to hurt one of our crewmembers, let alone incapacitate one. And any being that can defeat a Justicar in single combat needs some serious evaluations. Are you certain that this…Chief…won't endanger our goals?"

"That's not the case." As well-intentioned as Miranda was, she hadn't seen the Chief fight. And she hadn't been there when Saren had nearly plunged the galaxy into annihilation. The things that the rogue Spectre had unleashed had every possibility of becoming a nightmare for every species currently living their lives in 'peace'.

"I read the report, Shepard," Miranda continued. "How many Asari Commandoes did he kill? How many official Council soldiers? The Asari wouldn't like it if they found out, let alone the Turians."

"The Council," Shepard replied, starting to feel somewhat agitated, "has no jurisdiction in the Terminus Systems. Any and all personnel who died at his hands, while tragic, cannot be seen as an incentive for a diplomatic incident."

"Their lack of jurisdiction didn't stop the Turians from attacking Shanxi," the Operative was quick to point out. "Nor did it stop the Salarians with the Krogans. The Illusive Man didn't find out who those Commandoes were working with and what they wanted, but their deaths will raise questions, no matter where they died. Or how, for that matter."

"Then the Illusive Man will deal with those questions. The Chief acted in self-defense. Even if his actions were wrong, his species cannot be held responsible."

Lawson turned to face the Commander again, an odd expression on her face. "You misunderstand me, Shepard. I am not worried about the political consequences his species might face. It is the consequences that the Normandy might face. The Chief proved himself to be highly-dangerous. What do we even know about him? His species? He might endanger us all, Shepard."

"That all?"

Miranda nodded. "Just wanted to state my professional opinion, Commander."

Shepard glanced at the biotic, not sure what to think. Miranda was opening up a lot lately, more than she had expected at the start of all this, but she was still too…obstructive. Too buddy-buddy with the Tim. "Miranda, with the Krogan in the cargo hold and the mass-murdering convict in engineering, I don't think that the Chief will be a danger to us. He needs us as much as we need him. Now I don't care if Thane is an assassin, or that Zaeed helped found the Blue Suns. All I care about is that they can be trusted and that they can kick copious amounts of ass. And believe me, taking on half a dozen Asari commandoes at once and winning without so much as a scratch? The Chief certainly does fit the latter."

Miranda's eyes widened at that remark. "Seriously? No injuries at all?"

To see the normally-composed Lawson lose her perpetual slightly-amused pokerface was something that never failed to amuse Jane, and she found herself grinning. "Oh, he was injured alright. Before the encounter started. "

Shock turned to skepticism. "Wounded and still winning a perfect victory? I have to second-guess that."

The Commander shrugged. "Second-guess all you want. Was that all, Miranda?"

"Actually, there is…something I need to ask you. I don't like discussing personal matters, but this is important."

Skepticism turned to a form of sadness that was both uncharacteristic as worrying, and Shepard immediately understood that this had to be serious. "Miranda, you're one of my crew. Tell me what's wrong."

Miranda sighed and looked away. "My father was extremely wealthy. He wanted the ideal daughter, and he paid a great deal to…genetically tailor me. When I learned that my father was more interested in controlling a dynasty than raising a daughter though, I left."

That couldn't have ended peacefully. "How did your father take that?" asked Shepard.

Miranda shook her head and told the Commander that it wasn't about her, but about her sister. That particular tidbit greatly surprised her, as she hadn't thought Miranda Lawson to be the sibling-type.

Her sister who was living safely on the Asari garden world Illium, where her father was now trying to hunt her down to get her back. And now, unable to keep her sister hidden from her father anymore, she was out of options.

So, Cerberus was going to move her sister. Such VIP extractions were often the ideal moment for bad guys to strike, and the moment Miranda mentioned such a movement, Shepard immediately draw her conclusions. This was going to turn into a firefight, and Miranda knew it.

"My contact's name is Lanteia," the visibly-distraught Operative said. She'll be waiting for us in the lounge near the Nos Astra docking bay."

"Suit up then," replied Shepard. "I'm setting a course for Illium."

"Thank you, Shepard," Miranda stated before returning her focus back to her terminal. Even though she tried to act as a stone-cold Cerberus agent, putting her mission and objectives before her own feelings, the Commander could tell that this was very important to her. Good; that made it easier for her to trust the woman in the future.

Now that she had recruited all the possible teammates that the Illusive Man had forwarded to her, it was about time to start strengthen the team integrity and make sure that everybody was as ready -and loyal- as possible. She couldn't afford to have Miranda distracted by this and, more importantly, she couldn't afford to let this sister be abducted by their father.

People should never have their freedom taken from them.

But, Jane mused as she made her way towards the galaxy map to plot the Normandy's next course, who should she take with her?

Almost immediately, her thoughts traveled towards the giant soldier in her hangar bay. Strong, fast, completely alien. She had only been there for half his fight, but he had still displayed a vast and impressive set of skills. Even when abducted from his ship by scientists and soldiers, surrounded and alone, he had escaped and promptly forged himself a way to go on the offensive. Potentially creating a diplomatic incident, but still. That was impressive.

Hmm…Miranda's fighting style was based on staying light on her feet and breaking the enemy's defense with a variety of biotic and tech abilities. The Chief seemed to fight using his brute force and lightning reflexes, bringing large amounts of firepower to bear on the exact right moment.

Some pretty large amounts of firepower. Shepard had checked one of his pistols in the armoury, supervised by Jacob. Those things were _impressive._ Remarkably large, even when compared to her Carnifex, and filled with rounds that could easily fit into a rifle as well. It made her wonder what the hell kind of enemies these people had been fighting to build such weapons?

Anyway, the Chief seemed like a good complementary unit for this op. He still needed an Omni-tool with translation software to be able to actually work with the team, but she could easily outfit him with one. She just needed to know his size. And his knowledge of computers, she supposed.

Well, first things first. She made her way towards the galaxy map and set a source for the Crescent Nebula, Illium. It would them a while to get there, fifteen hours or so. Plenty of time for both Miranda and the Chief to get ready.

And plenty of time for her to figure out what to do next. If there was an entire species of him waiting somewhere around, it was just a matter of time before the Citadel Council would detect them. After all, if they were a spacefaring species capable of building such large, military vessels, that meant they were already colonizing. It was only a matter of time before they found Element Zero and discover the intergalactic community waiting for them.

Shepard couldn't suppress a smirk when she thought about the Turians responding to the Chief's species like they had at Shanxi. Hell, if it had been them at First Contact War instead of mankind. Now that would have probably gone differently.

Well, perhaps not. She didn't know how many of them were alive right now, or what other military assets they had.

Perhaps she could ask the Chief about it in the future? If they actually pulled this off and defeated the Collectors, it would be one hell of a bridge between humanity and his people.

Well, until then, she had others things to ask him. "Chief? You read me?" She didn't know how he had even managed to pick up on her comm's channel back in the derelict, but if his communication software was advanced enough to pick up military signals, that was good enough for her.

" _I read you, Commander."_ his rough, gravelly voice delivered his reply with barely any delay.

"We've got a new mission. Drop by the armoury to get geared up and meet me in fifteen hours."

" _Copy that."_

Shepard could appreciate a good no-nonsense attitude. Now she just had to send Jacob the word that he needed to prep an omni-tool large enough to fit a Krogan. That shouldn't be too much of a problem.

She hoped.

~0~

* * *

Assault rifle intact, safety clicked on. Magazine loaded, cartridges intact. Insert, pull pin, check round. Rifle loaded. Moving on to sidearm.

The Chief quickly worked through the basics of his rifle, taking it apart and reassembling it with practiced ease. Still he wasn't quite up to speed though.

" _Point four seconds longer than your average."_

Frowning, the Spartan stopped disassembling his pistol and placed the pieces on the ground beside him. "How long do you think this will last?"

" _Unclear. Technically, you shouldn't have been walking back on that science vessel. There are absolutely no records in the database of someone removing themselves from cryo, so the data is somewhat lacking."_ Cortana's answer was quick and to the point, but not completely satisfying. " _It could be a week. Knowing you, it'll be over in a day."_

Good. He wanted to be as sharp as possible, especially onboard a military vessel with potentially hostile aliens. "Acknowledged. How is your research?"

The Chief could nearly _feel_ Cortana smirk through the neural interface. " _Wonderful. This ship -the Normandy they call it- has a wealth of information that should prove invaluable in finding out where and when we ended up. There is another AI in the system though, so I can't just plunder it all. Yet."_

Another AI? That was alarming news. "Is it a threat?"

" _It didn't notice my incursion yet. I'm sticking with basic movements, otherwise it'll catch up. Still, a few copies here and there won't alarm anyone. I can bring you up to speed, if you want?"_

The Chief scooped up the parts of his pistol and started assembling it again. "Do it."

" _Shepard was honest. There really is a galactic community of alien species, outside the Covenant and working together. Curious…there are mentions to Earth and an alternate calendar. First Contact…seems the Turians weren't always the good guys. Right. This community seems ruled by three major species. Two of them you already figured out how to kill, the third can't be difficult."_

Reassuing.

" _First we have a species called the Turians. Your pal onboard that shuttle is one of them. Militant, avian according to our phylogenetic tree of life, involved in a small war with humanity at their first contact. Nothing too special here."_

The Chief wasn't so sure about that. How could an alien race that had warred with humanity be trusted at all? No matter how long the conflict had been, if there had been casualties, they couldn't be trusted. "First contact."

" _It's odd that there are no such records in the history of your mankind."_

"Our mankind," John asserted.

Cortana ignored him. " _Doesn't change the fact that none of the details found can in any way be traced back to the history of the UNSC. Moving on, we have the Asari. Now these are a bit special."_

"The female humanoids?"

" _Monogendered humanoids, Chief. If the Turians represent this Citadel's military, the Asari are their politicians. They do resemble our basic biology, if weaker, but their biotics set them apart."_

"Biotics?"

" _Not to be confused with antibiotics. These individuals manifest a rare ability to…break the rules of physics."_

The Chief raised an eyebrow at that. "That's new."

" _And I don't like one bit of it. It involves a new particle called 'Element Zero' which, I might add, does not make any form of sense. Any element that has zero mass would be considered-"_

"Cortana, the Asari?"

The AI gave her equivelant of a sigh. " _I'll figure it out on my own. The Asari have biotic potential, all of them. They also have a lifespan considerably greater than the average human's. Our soldiers won't be getting much older than two centuries, but these Asari can live up to a millennium. Which brings us to the issue of fighting them. The individuals you fought were their commando units. Specially trained, respected across the galaxy. The finest, if you will."_

He hadn't had much problems dealing with them. "I'll keep an eye on their abilities. The third race?"

" _Military, diplomacy and science. A species called the Salarians, involved with discovery and espionage. A bit like the Office of Naval Intelligence. In combat, they don't hold a candle to the Asari commandoes which don't a candle to you."_

"Us. You mentioned a calendar?"

" _Hmm…sorry, what?"_

Distracted. Again. Why was that? "A calendar. What year is it according to the info you found?"

" _Ah, that. Twenty-one eighty-five. Unless we somehow managed to travel four-hundred years in the past, I would suggest that these humans are somehow different from the ones we know."_

The Chief was about to reply that, human or different human, they still needed protection, when someone attempted to contact him through the comm's set in his MJOLNIR. He immediately recognized it as the Commander's frequency, and he allowed her through.

" _Chief? You read me?"_

It hadn't been that long since she had left him. Half an hour tops. Was there a situation already? "I read you, Commander."

" _We've got a new mission. Drop by the armoury to get geared up and meet me in fifteen hours."_

The armoury. That was where they had taken most, if not all of his gear. While his Assault Rifle had proven to be reliable enough to take care of most hostiles, there might be more of those commandoes. If they were truly capable of breaking the laws of physics, he just needed to kill them before they could do so. Preferably from a distance. "Copy that."

" _A mission already? These Collectors must be busy people. I've got a whole lot more information, Chief. If you need anything…"_

The statement went unanswered for several moments. Cortana's behavior was…off. Just a bit. Enough to go noticed. John wasn't certain what it was, so he couldn't estimate how much he should worry about it. "Give me an update when we reach this armoury. I want your opinion."

" _On what?"_

The Chief strapped the pistol to his thigh and placed the rifle at his back, where the magnetic strips tightly secured it to his suit. "Do you want to fight for Shepard, or return to UNSC space?"

" _Done. I will give you my answer when you reach the armoury. Be picky; we can't take everything with us."_

"Copy that."

The elevator led to various levels aboard the ship. The AI-infested ship. The thought about a hostile Artificial Intelligence rattled the Chief more than the news of an alien community working with humans did. After everything with the Gravemind and Spark, he wasn't sure if she could take much more. Even though she had held her own considerably...there was no telling how powerful this AI was. If there was a way for him to destroy it…nobody could find out though. That might prove an effective failsafe if things ever escalate aboard this ship. He would have to worry; Cortana's fight would be over in a matter of miliseconds.

He hoped it wouldn't get to that.

The elevator took its time to deliver him to the Combat Information Center. As soon as the doors opened, the Spartan realized that it was actually the bridge. Not any bridge he had ever seen before though. If anything, it resembled a Covenant control room more than anything else. A raised platform before a map of the galaxy, surrounded by consoles that were manned by humans.

Every single one of which then looked up from their work at the sound of the elevator doors opening. There was no telling which were armed -which were hostile.

" _Head to the port side. You will find the armoury there."_

The Chief silently thanked Cortana for her guidance and, after a brief moment of hesitation, turned to leave the staring humans behind him. Even here, in a complete different section of the galaxy, people still gawked at him.

Frustrating.

The door to the port section of the ship effortlessly slid away when he reached for the green, holographic display, revealing a modest-sized room with walls covered in weapons and types of ammo. In the center of the room stood a dark-skinned man with that same black-white suit as most of these crewmen wore.

 _Human. Military status. A hint of trepidation._

The man turned to look at the srmoured super-soldier and, after a brief moment of shock, seemed to recollect himself rather quickly. Either due to professionalism or experience. The Master Chief could appreciate that.

"You must be the Chief," he spoke, with the same accent as Shepard seemed to have. It wasn't any accent he was familiar with and he had heard and seen a lot of different nationalities.

Then the man extended a hand.

The Spartan glanced at the appendage with suspicion. Not a lot of people were willing to press their bare flesh into a cold, unyielding gauntlet. A handshake was a sign of respect and mutual trust, neither of which he was willing to extent at this moment.

Cortana must have picked up on that, because she said, " _Just do it. This is the man who keeps an eye on your gear, need I remind you?"_

Slow and deliberate, the Chief took the man´s hand.

"Jacob Taylor."

He did not respond to that, instead opting to glance around the armoury. He saw various rifles and pistols, shotguns and snipers. All of them clearly recognizable even if these humans were not the UNSC. He spotted his own weapons and gear as well, hung up on the walls together with the other weapons that they could be classified with. It was interesting that these weapons all had the same general form and function.

Of the vast amount of weapons that had been stowed away onboard the _Dawn's_ armory, only a few were on display here. The rest had to be in storage somewhere.

When John did not reply, the man scraped his throat and walked over towards the wall, pulling one of the distinctly-grey Assault Rifles off the wall. Amidst all these other alien weapons, it looked very out of place. "I took the liberty of going through some of the weapons your ship had stored. They're impressive."

The Chief glanced at Jacob, who was ejecting the magazine of the rifle. The man seemed to know exactly where to go, even with a design he was unfamiliar with. He worked fast and accurate, without wasting any movements, in removing one of the cartridges and setting it down on the table. It appeared that he had been stationed as the quartermaster for a reason.

He could appreciate that too.

"We work with a different sort of munition," Jacob said, holding the large round between his thumb and index finger. "As it stands now, I think your weapons are completely incompatible with ours."

"Can you make more of these?" the Chief replied, brushing with his own finger past the cartridge.

The man grunted and peered over his shoulder at one of the crates lying in the corner. "Maybe. It will be difficult to add any ammo types to them though."

 _Ammo types?_ The Spartan's curiosity won out over his hesitation and he asked, "What ammo types?"

"You know, incendiary, cryo and disrupter rounds. Until we can find a suitable charge for these cartridges, you won't be able to use any specialized munition." Jacob fell silent and observed the cartridge again, running a finger over the bullet at the tip. "Hmm…not that you will need those with this kind of munition, I suppose. This thing will rip through any barrier or shield." He set the bullet down and assessed the Chief, running his eyes up and down his armour in a very familiar gesture. "What can I help you with?"

"Looking for the SRS," the Chief said, before realizing that mister Taylor would have no clue what he meant. "The Sniper Rifle System."

"Ah," the man replied, prying one of the SRS99's off the wall. "Interesting design. Anti-material, if I'm not mistaken?"

"Yes," said the Chief. He was growing exceedingly weary of this conversation already. He didn't dislike the man, but neither was he willing to hold idle chat about these weapons. He had a job to do.

"This'll turn those Scions into mush real quick." The Chief took the rifle with one hand and slung it over his wall, where the magnetic clips aligned it into a position where it wouldn't block the Assault Rifle. "Anything else?"

"No."

Jacob nodded. "Good luck then. Just follow the Commander's orders and you'll be fine."

John did not doubt that. With his weapons of choice secured and ready for combat, the only thing that was left to do was wait.

What was he supposed to do with fifteen hours?

~0~

* * *

[ **SECURITY ACCESS GRANTED. UNSC TECHNOLOGICAL INFORMATION CODEX UNLOCKED]**

 **SUBJECT: MARINE BODY ARMOUR (CONTINUED)**

 _The extraordinary tough materials that composed the Covenant ground vehicles were thought impossible to synthesize. However, with many thousands of tons' worthy of scrap and wreckages, scientists had plenty of room for trial and error based methods of science._

 _Hannibal Weapon Systems is currently soliciting innovative research proposals on new Marine battle armour systems. The overall goal of this program is to develop a nonpowered, highly-protective replacement for the current BDU with higher sustainability to heat conveyed via plasma or laser weaponry, higher resistance to ballistic weapons and integrated battlefield components._


	6. Chapter 6: Eclipse

Chapter 6, in which Shepard takes the Master Chief to meet the Eclipse.

~0~

* * *

 _After our moderately-successful operation on Virmire, I have been reassigned to a different unit of the STG. Listening station 083 has reported strange gravitational anomalies beyond the Terminus systems. Stations 043 and 372 have reported similar claims. Additionally, unusual bursts of radiation from beyond the Terminus systems have been claimed, though there is no solid evidence to support this. I am expected to investigate these claims and, if possible, find out what the source is."_

 _Commander Rentola's logbook, entry 1_

 _~0~_

* * *

Fifteen hours where fifteen minutes would have sufficed. John would have spent it gathering intelligence, practicing with the alien weaponry and discovering more about the weaknesses of the other members of Shepard´s team, had it not been for Cortana.

She suggested that he should use the time he had to get some rest and then get to know the rest of the team. Jacob had outfitted him with something called an 'Omni-tool', which would allow him to remotely hack electronics as well as translate all alien languages for him.

So with that in mind, he had decided to catch some sleep. Cortana promised to wake him up when ten hours had passed, which would allow him to make good use out of the remaining four to five hours to read up on the various combatants he might be facing.

It hadn´t exactly gone like that. With dreams plagued by the Gravemind´s taunting and laughter, the hours of sleep had not exactly brought him the rest that he had hoped they would. On top of that, Cortana woke him up too soon as well.

He opened his eyes and immediately brought his rifle up to scan the room. It took him a few moments to blink away the black tentacles that had occupied his vision. "Is it time?" He asked her.

" _Nope. Someone just activated the elevator to the hangar bay. Shipboard camera's verified that the alien called 'Samara' left her quarters thirty-seven seconds ago. I thought you might be interested in that."_

He did not recognize that name. "Who-?"

" _I would say that she is the Asari you fought aboard the other vessel."_

 _Asari._ The monogendered race capable of bending physics with their mind. This was disastrous; he was not willing to test the translation software yet. "What does she want?"

Behind the large, metal box he had been resting against, he heard the doors of the elevator opening. " _Perhaps she wants to wish you welcome?"_

"Reveal yourself, creature," a harsh, female voice spoke.

" _Or perhaps she still holds a grudge. Chief, killing her won't help anyone."_

The Spartan checked his motion tracker and glanced around the corner of his cover, spotting the alien woman walking down the hangar bay at a brisk pace. "So what do you suggest?"

" _I suggest not killing her. Talk her down, disable her, retreat, whichever suits you best."_

Disabling it would be.

The Chief waited until the woman faced the other way and then rolled away from his cover, moving towards another box. His heavy boots made practically no sound as he moved towards the new cover, but still she managed to

Initial hostilities were to be understood. Continuing hostilities were not. What was she doing?

In her hands she carried the same weapon that the Commander had used before. A weapon that this Asari did not seem to need; she reached out with her hand and a massive shockwave of blue light rippled through the floor, wrenching and ripping through the heavy box like it was made out of cardboard.

The Spartan rolled away and, after a brief internal struggle, withheld his fire. The anticipation of another close-quarters fight kicked up his instincts, and his combat senses kicked in almost instantly.

Another projectile was cast his way and hyper-sensitive reflexes threw his shoulder back, just in time for the blue sphere to sail past him.

Time returned to its normal flow and the Chief moved several feet closer when Samara readjusted her aim. Her body was enveloped in that same blue corona as before, but it was different from Shepard's. Wilder, more powerful. Just like before, her presence alone was a physical sensation. It was if her body constantly exuded a wild gale, just noticeable enough for him to spot it.

And she was fast. Faster than the Asari he had fought before; she effortlessly tracked his new location and unleashed another biotic attack, covering at least four meters in width - enough so that he could not dodge it sideways again.

So he didn't. He sank through his knees just a few inches, before pushing off and launching himself over the incoming shockwave of blue energy. The latent force behind him was enough to propel him further into the air, but he used the momentum so sling his legs over his head, even as the alien moved closer.

She had not anticipated that, as she could not react fast enough to prevent the Spartan from snatching the weapon out of her hands and land behind her. He then lashed out with an open-palm strike, not hard enough to kill or maim, but powerful enough to send her stumbling forwards.

"Relax," he called, crushing the firearm in one gauntlet and dropping the remains to the ground. "We're on the same side."

His comment seemed to stop her, if only momentarily. "You…speak?" She asked. Her voice sounded like it didn't belong to her body. It was…older. Too restrained and just off.

"Yeah," the Master Chief replied. And he would rather not have her push him too far; if she wouldn't stand down, he would have to break her limbs to make her. And he was very sure that doing so wouldn't improve his odds of getting back to the UNSC a lot.

"It matters little," she then said, much to the Spartan's frustration. "The Code demands your death for your transgressions. May you find peace, in the embrace of the Goddess."

" _Curious. Mentioning deities in battle? And what code?"_

Irrelevant. If she was determent to see this fight through, he would end it quickly.

Not even a second passed between the Asari finishing her sentence and her next attack. This time, instead of wasting time and energy with horizontal of diagonal attacks, she straight-up filled the room with a biotic blast large enough to envelop a Scorpion tank. The Spartan had ample time to respond, but he didn't have anywhere to go.

It was time to test the effectiveness of biotics against his MJOLNIR.

The cascades of blue energy washed over and crumpled the metal underneath his feet. It was as if someone had set off a grenade right next to him, as waves of overpressure pounded against him and forced him back. There was a noticeable drain in his energy shielding and the sheer impact rattled his bones.

Enough was enough.

The Chief took two large steps forwards and closed the distance between him and the Asari, who had also been moving towards him. His hand shot out and seized her by her throat. He encountered a thin layer of resistance, but that did nothing to protect her from the unyielding gauntlet, large enough to fit around her entire neck.

As time in his perception was still pushed to a crawl by the chemical response that every fight felicitated from his body, he had ample time to predict and counter her response. She fought him like a trained soldier, without hesitation or restraint. She was just too slow. He took her arm in a wrist-lock with his remaining arm when she attempted to lash out with another biotically-charged punch.

That stopped her assault dead cold. She jerked with her arm, but when the Chief slightly shifted his hips, bringing her joint straight to its breaking point, she ceased that as well.

The Chief wasn't attempting to choke her out, or break her bones, but she didn't seem to realize that. She grabbed his arm with her free hand and attempted to pull it off. To no avail, of course. Underneath her barriers and biotic abilities, she had the physique of an ordinary human.

"Enough," the Chief barked. His transgression…their fight? Was this about payback, or honour? "I'm not your enemy."

The Asari glanced up, looking at his visor. Her face had an odd quality to it. Her eyes were pale and very determined.

Then, the blue Aura around her body increased in force. It washed over his armour like a thick mist, yet it did not drain his shields. A sudden jolt ran down his spine and it felt as if a droplet of water hit the base of his neck, right where his neural implant was. What was she doing?

"You…" she muttered, looking down again. "Who…what are you?"

The biotic field around her body dimmed down somewhat. Her muscles, which had been tensed up and anticipating for a strike, seemed to relax. Only that vague shimmer remained, connecting the two of them via thin rays of biotic energy.

~0~

* * *

 **Normandy bridge**

"Commander?"

"Yes Kelly?"

"Samara just took the elevator towards the hangar bay. It's unusual for her to leave her quarters like that."

"Got-" Suspicon flared up in her chest as Jane processed just what the Yeoman was saying. "Wait, _Samara_?"

"I read that there was an armed conflict between her and the newest recruit. You might want to check up on-"

The Commander didn't even need to hear the rest of that. As soon as she realized what was happening, she strode towards the elevator and jabbed at the button to recall it.

She should have seen this coming! Samara's Code might force her to condemn the Chief for his actions in defending himself, or it might not. But using violence against a Justicar was a sure-way method of getting yourself killed. Hell, a Justicar would even kill normal, law-abiding officers if they attempted to prevent her from fulfilling her Code.

Shepard gritted her teeth and suppressed the urge to slam her fist against the wall. The elevator was so damn slow! Why hadn't EDI granted her access to the override yet? It was such a simple change to the software!

Below, the sounds of gunfire and explosions rattled the elevator shaft. Those two were ripping the hangar bay apart and they hadn't even been on the ship a week!

Grunt never damaged his living quarters except for that one time he had gotten a bit confused, and even Jack seemed to treat the engineering deck with respect. At what point could a baby Krogan super-soldier and a psychotic convict be less destructive than an Asari Justicar and a professional soldier?

When Shepard reached the lowest level, she immediately enveloped herself in a corona of biotic energy and braced herself. The doors opened and Shepard immediately spotted her two teammembers, intertwined in a lethal embrace. The Chief's massive gauntlet around the Justicar's lithe neck, the Asari's biotic powers surrounding the both of them.

Shepard made a fist and expanded her own biotic energy, throwing up a wall between the Chief and Samara. Her biotics clashed with those of the Asari and cut them apart. The sudden force between them was enough to separate the two, though the Chief was merely forced to take a step back, while Samara was sent stumbling.

"Shepard?"

"Commander."

"Were you two trying to hurt each other?" She asked. Demanded, really. "You were, weren't you."

"My apologies Commander," Samara said without taking her eyes off of the Chief. "But the Code demanded retribution."

Shepard nodded, taking note of the usage of the past tense. _Demanded._ "Oh. Chief?"

"Yes," The Chief said matter-of-factly. "That."

Jane didn't know whether to laugh or to bash her head against the wall. At least this proved her idea. "Alrightie then. Samara, I'm an understanding woman who understands lots of things. But the last thing I want to try understanding is my teammates trying to hurt each other! Understand?"

The Asari casted her eyes to the ground. "Yes, Commander," she said. "It shall not happen again."

"Good. Chief? Self-defense is acceptable to a limited degree." Samara did not appear wounded, but she was taking no risks here. "That goes for you too. I want zero incidents from now on. Do _you_ understand?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Was that slight amusement she detected? Probably not. "Good. Because I'm trying really hard to teach a few of our people the meaning of friendship and this doesn't make for a healthy learning climate. Do I need to add you two to the list as well?"

"You will not, Commander," said Samara. She looked…off. A bit disturbed, even. "That is a promise."

Well…that was easy. And then people said that Justicars had a hard time adapting to new environments! Samara had come to understand her way of thinking faster than Tali had!. "Good. Return to your quarters, Samara. Chief, ready up. Once we hit Illium, I want you and Miranda at standby.

"Yes ma'am."

Jane hesitated for a brief moment, thinking about what else she could say. The thing was, she had expected this to escalate into the exact same scenario from which she had extracted Samara and, in a way, the Chief too. It felt like this has resolved itself too easy.

The universe didn't generally let her off easy.

As she returned to her private quarters to review her armour components for the coming operation, she just couldn't shake off the feeling that there had been more to the confrontation.

Once again, Shepard found herself wondering if the Chief really was everything that he appeared. She couldn't have defeated Saren without her alien friends, so she knew first-hand how important it was to have a diverse set of allies on the team. Still, there was something about him that unsettled her. Maybe it was his face. Or, a lack of it. Staring into that golden visor, seeing your own features reflected right back at you…it made her wonder how much of him was truly organic, and how much of him wasn't.

Well, she could figure that out later. Miranda was bound to be keeping some sort of list with all kinds of details about him. If not, Mordin could figure out the details about Chief's species.

Until then, Shepard had plenty of other things to take care of. Only the last hour before arriving at Illium did she find herself actually thinking about the mission.

Miranda´s father, making clones to create the perfect legacy. Probably discarding them if they weren't good enough. He saw the girls as his property, not as actual people. Miranda had saved her sister -Oriana- from his grip and Cerberus had assisted her with the relocation.

So did that mean that The Illusive Man had helped her, or some of Miranda's friends?

Didn't matter that much though. Cerberus wasn't going to be of much help here. Illium…a world just like Noveria. Corporate executives and officials, hiding their criminal activities under the guise of business. If things were going to turn violent- and Jane had every reason to believe they would- the most likely candidate for trouble would be Eclipse mercenaries.

…she hated NGO mercenary groups. Always had.

Still, they were nothing she couldn't handle. She had torn through dozens of their soldiers while recruiting Thane and, later, Samara, and she would have no trouble doing so again.

Her newest recruit would make that even easier.

The Commander shook her head when her thoughts traveled back to the strange alien. She had to stop doing that and focus!

When it was time, Shepard returned to the CIC and stepped up towards the galaxy map. "Joker, set a course for Illium's dock. The usual spot."

" _Aye-aye Commander. Think the Eclipse will leave you alone this time?"_

"Want to bet about it?"

" _Nah. I don't like my chances."_

Jane chuckled. It was time for Miranda and the Chief to meet face-to-face.

" _Ehm, Commander?"_ Joker then said half a minute later. " _We're not getting permission to dock the ship."_

Okay, that was new. "Did you paint something indecent on our hull?"

" _As if! No, apparently something has happened, and they closed the port. Guess someone robbed the stock or something."_

Shepard sighed. She was not going to dock somewhere where she had to travel half a country to get to Miranda's contact. Whatever this was, it could wait. "We'll take the shuttle. Drop us off and find somewhere else to dock the Normandy."

She had no idea what that commotion was supposed to be about, but she wasn't going to take any risk. She quickly donned her N7 armour and ordered her teammates to gear up. Moving back down to the hangar bay was a bit awkward, as Samara and the Chief had torn the place up somewhat.

This awkwardness became especially nagging when Miranda had joined her on the elevator downstairs. When the doors opened, revealing the damage that the two had done in their brief, but intense brawl, Shepard was certain that the Cerberus Officer would make some sort of snarky comment about it.

At least the shuttles were still intact.

Remarkably, Miranda kept her words to herself. She gave Jane a meaningful glance and raised one of her eyebrows in an amused gesture, but she remained silent.

The Commander inwardly sighed and walked over towards the shuttle, which EDI had already aligned with the bay doors using the electronic rail-system. The onboard VI was probably preparing the systems right now. "Chief, I want you to meet Miranda Lawson. She's my second-in-command, and this mission is on her behalf."

"Good to meet you, Chief," Miranda said with that faint, smug smile of hers and extended a hand towards the green giant.

Who then proceeded to promptly ignore the gesture of good faith and turned towards Shepard instead. "What are our objectives?" He asked with that heavy, gravelly voice of his.

Miranda opened her mouth to protest, seemed to think better and closed it again. "I will wait on the shuttle," she declared, before turning around to leave.

"Miranda has a sister on Illium," said Shepard. "Her father is trying to kidnap her, so Cerberus -that's the people we work with- is going to move her. We are going there to make sure she actually makes it to Cerberus' people."

"That is our operation?" The Chief then asked. His utter lack of normal, organic movements and manners were off-putting, to say the least. He showed no signs of apprehension or doubt, or any other emotion-driven stances.

Yet Jane couldn't help but feel like he was skeptical. "Yeah. The father will have mercenaries standing by to make sure he gets his daughter back. If you're expecting a fight, you'll get one."

A brief pause. "And the military advantages of this operation?"

Yup. That was skepticism alright. "Unit integrity. I want everyone to keep their heads during our missions. Any loose ends or distractions will only hold us down. We're a team, Chief. We take care of our own."

There was a brief moment of hesitation between her explanation and the soldier's response. "Copy that."

"Good." With that, Shepard joined Lawson on the shuttle. When all three of them were onboard, EDI opened the hangar bay doors and the Kodiak's VI sent them off on the same pre-set course as the last few times. The program was good enough to navigate when there weren't any other ships trying to blow them out of the air. On hot drops like Horizon, she preferred having an actual pilot dropping them off, but Illium wasn't supposed to give them any hassles. Initially.

Now Illium was a…peculiar planet. It wasn't an official asari colony, but it was mostly governed by them. While Omega was just a wretched hive filled with criminals, gangs and lowlifes, Illium was a wretched hive filled with criminals, gangs and lowlifes disguised as businesspeople and contractors. She still wasn't quite sure how it worked, but it was perfectly possible for some poor soul to make a wrong marketing choice and end up as a slave for an 'unspecified amount of time'.

"Fancy armour," Miranda said, breaking the silence that had been dominating the Kodiak dropship for a while. "Does it come equipped with kinetic barriers?"

The Chief didn't bother facing Miranda, instead keeping his gaze straight on the hatch. "No."

"Oh. Then I hope you know what you're doing. Eclipse mercenaries are well known for their accuracy."

Liar.

The Chief remained silent. A man of little words, it seemed. Jane knew what Miranda was doing; she was trying to read into him and zero in his character. His likes, dislikes, what drove him. She had done the same for everyone else -excluding Jack, of course- and the results were neatly categorized into a profile.

Lawson had claimed to be excellent at guessing what people were like. She needed to be given an actual person to do that, however, and Jane hadn't even figured out what part of the Chief was a real, living person and what part wasn't. He could be half-synthetic for all she knew.

"Trust me," Jane said. "He knows what he's doing."

"Good. Lanteia is waiting for us at the Eternity bar. I suggest we go there straight away."

"Good suggestion," Shepard replied, ignoring that Miranda had just basically given them an order. The woman was on edge.

Good. That meant she cared.

Though the Commander had walked the halls of Illium's docking port at least half a dozen times by now. People didn't really stare at anyone of her crew except for Grunt, and because he was a krogan, they didn't bother with directly staring. Everyone kept their eyes on them, but subtly so.

This time was different. Maybe it was his unusual size, or his otherworldly armour. Most likely she was just being paranoid, but she felt like everyone had a lot more attention for her shore party than normal.

And that feeling turned into outright suspicion when some people started outright staring at them. Some asari, two salarians. One volus glanced at their way, spotted the Chief and nearly lost his balance.

Miranda couldn't have missed the attention that they were receiving. Her contact had better remain professional, because this felt worse than walking through S-sec with Wrex.

The Chief, for his part, remained utterly indifferent to all the attention. His posture was perfect, his gait without hesitation. On occasion, Jane had to look over her shoulder to make sure that he was even there, because he seemed to move without making sound. It reminded her of how he had stalked her through the derelict vessel. He was a soldier, there was no doubt about that, but he was also a hunter.

They managed to get to the eternity bar without too much complications. Nobody actually tried to stop them and nobody even spoke to them, but it was only when they actually entered the smaller area next to the bar and the Chief took his position near the opening that they were hidden from all those prying eyes.

An asari waited for them in the room. She seemed to be able to keep her curiosity to herself, though her eyes did scan the Chief's suit thoroughly before they eventually rested on Miranda. "Miss Lawson, I'm glad you made it. We've had a complication."

"What happened? Is Oriana alright?" The operative replied with barely-restrained concern.

"She's fine, but…you listed Niket as your trusted source? He contacted me, warning that your father has sent Eclipse mercenaries to make a sweep-"

Eclipse. Joker was going to love that.

"-he suggested that the mercenaries might be watching for you personally. He's offered to escort Oriana's family to the terminal instead."

Jane raised her eyebrow and glanced at Miranda. "So uhm…Niket is a new name."

"It is. Niket is my friend. You and him are the only ones I trust with this."

Alright then. "It's your sister, Miranda. Plan's still the same?"

Miranda turned towards the asari. "Lanteia, we'll follow Niket's suggestion. Shepard and I will take the car down and draw their attention. Have Niket escort the family to the shuttle…and give him full access to their itinerary, just to be safe."

"I can't help but think about all those lovely weapons and armor-components on that car…oh wait."

Miranda looked at Shepard, a faint smile on her face. She wondered how sincere it was. "They will be under orders to take my sister alive. They won't risk anything that could hurt us."

"And then people accuse me of taking leaps of logic…fine. I'm ready when you are."

Miranda gave a nod to the asari, who turned away again. "Shepard, I…thank you. I appreciate this. I don't think the Eclipse planned on you being here."

Shepard very much doubted that they did. "You're welcome. Come on; let's go meet the new neighborhood.

~0~

* * *

The Master Chief quietly took in every single detail about this operation, and the conclusion he reached did not meet his standards.

"This is a disaster."

" _Oh Chief, don't be such a downer. This is a golden opportunity!"_ Replied Cortana. Unusually cheery as well.

"There are no military goals, no gains. Personal feelings hold no value on the battlefield."

" _This is not the UNSC, Chief. Shepard said it herself; Cerberus is an atypical unit. You really should have seen this coming."_

The Commander and her second-in-command were too engrossed with steering the small shuttle and keeping an eye on the sky to involve him in their actions, which made it easier for him to concentrate on what Cortana was saying. They couldn't hear him, of course. His helmet allowed for encrypted channels and private conversations. "Shepard thought it necessary to specify Cerberus. Got anything on them?"

" _It's not easy. They are working pretty hard to keep people from mentioning them at all. Hmm…reminds me of ONI. They started as an Alliance black-ops operation, but broke off and became a pro-human splinter organization."_

"Alliance?"

Cortana sighed. " _These people's equivalent of the UNSC. Don't you remember anything I say? Keep up, this is where it becomes interesting. Our Commander died in the line of duty, two years ago."_

The Chief raised his eyebrow. "Think anyone told her this yet?"

" _Don't worry, this isn't just a case of copious amounts of determination. Shepard literally died and Cerberus spent a fortune bringing her back to life. The people who know Cerberus don't like them, Chief. Interesting…the mythology belongs to our history, yet these people have their own divergent line of history as well. Every passing mention to Earth, proves that it isn't our earth. Anyway, this planet holds a goldmine of information."_

"Hold on. Not our Earth? How does that work?"

" _That's -don't worry about it. Not important. I've been searching something called the extranet for something else called the 'codex'. It's a catalog of pretty much everything! Technology, species, biology, history, everything! You should give it a read sometimes."_

"Cortana, slow down. Stay focused on the mission."

" _Look who's grumpy. Don't worry, I'm only dedicating a small percentage of my runtime to decrypting it all. I mentioned your suit has finished calibrating, did I?"_

No, she hadn't. She had mentioned a lot of information, each piece more confusing than the last one, but she had never actually told him when she had finished recalibrating the MJOLNIR.

" _Because I think I can make some upgrades to it. There is a very small portion of nanomachines stashed away in several compartments. I've been instructing them to repair the damage that Guilty Spark caused-"_

Alarmed, the Chief cut her off. "Wait, nanomachines? In the Mark VI?"

" _Yes. You didn't know? How couldn't you?"_

There had not been enough time during testing to explain him all the details of the Mark VI, but John thought that somebody would have mentioned to him that his suit contained a stash of nanomachines. It seemed like an important detail to him.

Cortana was starting to drop the ball on him. He had to prioritize, and so did she. "Don't mess with those machines yet. Make sure that you can control them and that they are harmless."

" _I can-"_

"Cortana," John sharply called. "Stop. Focus on the mission."

She waited three full seconds before she gave her reply. And when she did, it sounded almost like she begrudged him for it. " _Fine. I'm going too fast for you, aren't I?"_

"Just…tell me about this Eclipse. Weapons, abilities, threats."

" _On it."_

The Spartan caught movement in his peripheral vision and he looked out the window, where several flying objects soared past them and headed towards the cargo area where their own shuttle was headed. "Commander."

"Eclipse mercenary gunships," said Lawson. "They'll be dropping troops in the cargo area."

"We'll get straight on their asses," stated Shepard. "Behind cover as well."

It didn't work like that. The mercenaries that roped down from the dropships spotted their vehicle and promptly opened fire. They were different from the other hostiles that the Chief had fought before. At least, he didn't recognize them. Their armour was beige and covered with yellow lights. Some of them were aliens, too. He spotted two asari and one salarian

One of the troops waved with his arms and the other soldiers stopped shooting, but it was too late by then. The Chief braced for a hard landing and moved to kick open the door when the cab-vehicle crashed a few meters away from the hostiles.

Shepard beat it to him, however. She flung the door out of its frame with her biotic powers and jumped out, displaying an impressive agility in the process. More so than Lawson, who, compared to the gracious Commander, appeared rather clumsy as she crawled out of the broken machine.

Still, she took the lead. Her attitude virtually oozed confidence as she strode towards the hostile group of mercenaries, where the man who appeared to be their leader moved to meet her in the middle. Holographic displays covered his body in different places at his torso, most likely to reduce the impact of projectiles.

"Since you're not firing yet, I trust you know who I am?" said Miranda.

"Yeah, they said you'd be in the car. You're the bitch who kidnapped our boss' little girl."

Little girl?

"Kidnapped her? This doesn't involve you; I suggest you take your men and go."

The Spartan paid close attention to the conversation, but he didn't fail to notice the mercenaries carefully lining up their weapons and taking aim. They were anticipating this to go south then? If so, they possessed at least basic military training. What was the stance of private military corporations in this community? Were they accepted as normal?

And while he didn't really care for Lawson's personal problems, he did not appreciate her dragging the Commander along on a personal mission without telling her the complete truth. It wasn't professional.

"Captain Enyala ordered us to give you one chance to walk away."

They were still talking. The Chief longed to just open fire and cut the mercenaries down where they stood before they had the chance to kick this off, but it wasn't his call. Besides; PMC's had played vital roles in various battles throughout the Human-Covenant war. Perhaps these men could be reasoned with?

"This whole time we've been talking, my men have been lining up shots-"

Shepard and Lawson exchanged a glance.

The Chief readied himself.

"We're ready to unleash hell on your squad, so I suggest-"

Shepard was fast. She kicked the soldier and grabbed his head by his chin and the back of his head, giving a jerk to break his neck.

That was the Chief's cue as well. The soldiers at the back of the range were the first to go, to cut off the enemy's escape and eliminate their sharpshooters. He sighted in with his assault rifle and, upon aligning the integrated scope with the head of the salarian, pulled the trigger. The bullets found their mark and the Chief moved on to the next three soldiers, who had yet to recover from the shock of their leader dying.

With machine-like precision, he put a three-round burst into the heads of all the soldiers standing at the far end of the battlefield. By then, Miranda's own reflexes kicked in and she opened fire too, hosing the remaining combatants with fire. Their bodies seemed to be protected by shimmering shields, or holograms of some sort. It protected them against the incoming fire while they scrambled for cover.

The Commander didn't allow them too, however. She took aim at the crate above their head and fired off several shots with her pistol, hitting the thick cables that suspended the heavy-duty crate and letting it come crashing down on their heads, whereupon it promptly exploded.

" _Exploding canisters. I like her style. Eclipse mercenaries have a strict organization, Chief. Troopers, Engineers, Heavies. They also like to deploy fully autonomic security robots. Mechs, they call them."_

"Original." The Eclipse soldiers who had survived the initial attack didn't get to show off why they had their obvious rank designations. The powerful rounds of the assault rifle smashed through their shields, ripped through their helmets and splashed the various crates that had been used as cover with a mixture of red and green.

 _"Chief,"_ Cortana said as the last body crashed to the ground. " _I am picking up enemy chatter. They are locking down the elevator to the container transfer area. It will severely increase our odds of success if you prevent them from doing so, but you should hurry."_

She placed a waypoint on his HUD, which led straight through the area ahead. There was bound to be more hostiles there. "Commander, enemy forces are shutting down the elevator. Permission to engage and neutralize?"

Shepard hesitated visibly. She lowered her gun and glared at him. "How do you know?"

"My communications system can pick up enemy transmissions." Technically a lie.

"We don't split up mid-combat, Chief. That´s a textbook way to get yourself ambushed and killed."

" _Twenty seconds. Either get me within visual range or neutralize the hostiles."_

"Affirmative. But within less than twenty seconds, the elevator will be locked down."

The Commander sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose in visible frustration. "Get there and clear out the elevator of enemy hostiles. Break off as soon as they start overwhelming you! We'll cover you."

"Copy that."

The Spartan wasted no time. He assessed the area around him, spotted the quickest path to the elevator and moved towards one of the larger containers that had been prepped up against the wall

He jumped up, touched the top of the four-meter high container with one gauntlet and vaulted over it. From there, he leapt for one of the higher containers.

Shepard and Lawson moved up and took cover at the right turn, where more mercenaries were waiting for them. Cortana had made the right call; they would have been bogged down by the enemy fire if they had taken the direct route.

"Can he handle it?" He heard the second-in-command ask

"Probably," replied Shepard. "Gotta give him that chance."

The Spartan ignored their conversation and, when one of the mercenaries down below shifted his fire towards him, jumped over the clearing and landed on another container. The rest of the group was now behind and below his position. There were two groups of hostiles between him and the elevator, one of which was currently occupying Shepard.

The other one though…

 _"Five hostiles down below Chief,"_ said Cortana. _"Taking them out will secure the elevator and disrupt their override. Highlighting them now. Target the one with the active omnitool first."_

The Chief landed on top of the crate hanging directly above them and immediately repositioned, poising himself to strike. Through his HUD, Cortana selected the group of mercenaries below him and highlighted their bodies in a light shade of blue. They were grouped together, but not in such a way that a single grenade could kill them all. About three or four meters between them. And all of them were focusing on the way Shepard and Lawson were about to come from.

They were unaware of his position.

" _They are covering each other moderately well. Kinetic barriers will work against you…I recommend using heavy blows and fast movement."_

"Copy." The Chief exhaled and dropped off of the crate, aiming at the first hostile. Half a ton of MJOLNIR Powered Armour landed with pinpoint precision on its neck and head, smashing it against the ground and shattering its skull as well as its helmet.

The Chief sank through his legs to absorb the shock and in that instance, the world crawled to a hold. The remaining hostiles started turning to face him when the noise of his first hit found its way to their ears, but they were slow. Movements suspended in the air, rifles that would never meet their mark.

The Spartan settled his gaze on the second hostile and Cortana instantly highlighted it in yellow outlines, sealing its fate.

The mercenaries were still in the process of turning when the Chief struck. Powerful muscles, augmented by the force-enhancers in his suit, propelled him past the four meters that separated him and his target in the time it took his heart to contract. An armored gauntlet ripped the rifle free from its wielder and discarded it. The other one found its mark at the target's throat, crushing the thin plates around it.

The Chief did not waste a single movement, bringing his hand down and slamming the mercenary against the ground with enough force to dent the steel plating that covered it.

Cortana selected his next target and the Chief pushed off, striking before the merc could even bring his weapon up. He tore the rifle out of the hostile's grasp and then lashed out with his elbow, crushing his throat and, most likely, his neck.

Two left.

Another highlight, another target. The Spartan moved with trained precision. The force of his impact sent the mercenary reeling, easily setting him up to be smashed against the ground. The Chief followed up by ramming his knee down against its back and then jerking its arm up, audibly breaking it as well as its back.

One left. Its rifle had been brought up as well, and this one even got as far as to squeeze off a shot before the Chief shoved it aside and wrapped his arm around its neck, pulling it down as his own knee went up.

 _Crack._

" _One point six seconds,"_ Cortana chimed in when he released the body, allowing it to slump to the ground. " _Impressive. It appears that speed is the correct counter to these alleged biotic and tech abilities."_

"The Commander will soon reach the elevator," replied John. He looked over his shoulder at the silver elevator doors, with the green holographic display that indicated it was still up and running. "Did you figure out the omnitool?"

" _I did. Mostly. It allows me to hack objects with a greater range than before, without requiring my physical presence. There are some combat protocols stored there as well, but we don't have the hardware yet."_

Shepard and Lawson rounded the corner, weapons raised. Both of them stared at the carnage for a few moments, before Shepard put her gun away and stepped up towards the elevator to activate it. "Still working. Nice job."

Lawson glanced down at the broken bodies of the Eclipse troopers. She didn't say anything, though her gaze did linger on the particularly maimed body of the first one, where the Chief had initiated the fight. She grimaced and joined the Commander in the elevator

John looked down at the kill as well. Red blood poured freely over the ground, together with pieces of skull and gray matter. A sight he had seen many times before. He was used to it.

Yet he still felt a hint of frustration and, if he understood it right, unease. After having spent decades fighting for humanity's survival, going out of his way to save as much of his fellow soldiers, the act of killing another human didn't settle well with him. His instinct had told him to shift his foot towards the mercenary's head and crush it against the floor as he landed, but now that he actually saw the result, the act only filled him with disapproval.

"Chief?" Shepard called from the elevator. "Come on."

The Spartan did as she instructed, banishing the thoughts of blood on his boots and moving to join the Commander.

Lawson had picked up a discarded radio, through which a heated discussion on the side of Eclipse could be heard. She used it to tap into their communications, making it harder for the Chief to use that particular explanation for Cortana's abilities.

Miranda sighed and crossed her arms. She seemed to hesitate for a moment, before explaining the truth behind her sister. That, despite being a genetic twin, she was also much younger. The only created child after Miranda which their father kept. Lawson saved her when she was young, taking her when she was a baby.

She had left everything of her old life behind in that one act, retaining only this 'Niket' as her trusted friend.

"I should have told you, Shepard," she then said.

"It's alright, Miranda. It's just…are you sure you can trust Niket? Really sure?"

Lawson nodded. "I trust him with my life, Commander."

The Chief wasn't so certain. From what he had heard, the mercenaries had somehow gotten to Niket. Either he had been compromised by them, or he was aiding them. The last remaining option was that the mercenaries just knew about Niket and nothing else, but that was a very long shot.

He didn't know what to make of this. He didn't feel anything for the details surrounding this mission, and he just wanted to complete it without further conversations like these, but he also couldn't ignore it.

Thankfully, a distraction offered itself in the form of Cortana. " _As much as I like to discuss the ethics of kidnapping genetically-fortunate children from their parents, there is something that you should know. I did some research on this mercenary group and you won't like it."_

"Go on."

" _The Eclipse were founded by an Asari commando, and are an effective NGO that can be hired for security, assassinations and other pleasant tasks. They're also responsible for about twenty percent of all the smuggling that takes place in this galaxy, though those figures might be exaggerated somewhat. These aren't pleasant people, Chief."_

Criminally-employed mercenaries. That was good to hear. While he wasn't particularly keen on taking out soldiers, these Eclipse troopers were pretty much criminals themselves. "Keep searching for weaknesses. Keep me posted."

" _Right. You should also know that you might be about so see some pretty heavy mechs up ahead. Their name translates to YMIR, at least in most of our human languages. Be cautious."_

The elevator opened again, revealing a large, open area filled with containers, stairs and walkways. This was going to turn into a shooting gallery.

"They're on the far end of the conveyer line, time your shots."

The three of them advanced, leaving the elevator behind them and stepping into the open. Hostiles appeared on the other side of the conveyer line, where every few seconds a large crate was hauled across a rail.

The Chief spotted several good positions of cover which the enemy had to be denied, lest they dig in. He took aim with his rifle, but had to lower it when one of the containers had to be transported across the chasm at that exact moment.

" _You're not thinking what I'm thinking, are you?"_

He probably was. The Spartan took a few large strides and broke into a sprint, heading straight towards the rapidly-descending container. Shepard yelled at him from behind, but he ignored her. Projectiles sailed through the air and a large ball of fire sped past him as he jumped for the heavy crate, touched it with one foot and kicked off. The barrel of his rifle lined up with one trooper and he pulled the trigger, splattering the ground with purple blood.

He landed, rolled over his shoulders to dissipate the momentum and nearly came to a standstill in front of a soldier with a large rocket launcher in her hands. He lashed out with an open-palm strike and sent her flying, before taking aim and shooting three more Eclipse through the head.

The rocket launcher clattered to the ground.

The last Eclipse left was a Salarian which, meanwhile, gestured with his wrist and launched some manner of large, holographic sphere at him. It moved very slowly, so the Chief didn't pay it any thought.

" _Chief, mind the combat drone. It packs a-"_

The jolt of electricity that sprang from the small drone to the Spartan was instantaneous, but his armour absorbed the worst of the attack.

" _\- lot of voltage."_

He immediately jumped to the side, rolled over the ground and shot the engineer responsible for controlling the holographic weapon. Two bullets tore through his large head and his body was flung to the ground by the force.

The Spartan lifted his weapon to bash the remaining electronic weapon to pieces, but before he could make contact a flash of blue light and energy washed over it, effectively detonating it with a small blast.

 _"- lot of voltage. You alright?"_

The Chief grunted and ejected his magazine, checking to see how much rounds he had left. Shepard and Lawson had made their way around the battlefield and the Cerberus operative lowered her omni-tool, which was still glowing from the attack she had made.

Shepard stepped up towards the Chief, scowling. "Communication is a two-way street, Chief. Do you _always_ rush off into the battlefield like that?"

Running off into the battlefield was _not_ what he did. "I moved in and eliminated an enemy team before they could reach cover."

" _I doubt the Commander realizes the difference when it is you doing the rushing, Chief."_

 _"_ That´s not my point. We work as a team, Chief. Maneuvers like that could get you killed if you don't call them out first!"

Was that what this was about? He had agreed to follow her orders, but she had to understand that this was how Spartans won. Not by staying on the defensive and potentially catching a lethal bolt of fire, but by staying on the offensive and pushing the enemy back before they could get a chance to do any harm.

He was about to tell her to stick to her own fighting style when Cortana chimed in, " _No, we can't have our new commanding officer question the way of the Spartan, can we? Tell her this…"_

John did not question Cortana's words and immediately relayed them. She was bound to have a better grasp on how to keep Shepard as an ally than he did. "Commander, this is how we were trained to fight. I can assure you that the benefits outweigh the risks."

She quickly glanced over her shoulder to confirm that they were still in the clear and said, "You were taught _those_ fighting moves? Fine, you know what, I won't argue. You know your limits better than I do. But I want you to notify me before you pull these stunts again. Am I understood?"

That worked out in his favour. "Yes ma'am."

Shepard nodded and quickly ran up towards Lawson to take point again. Oddly enough, the Chief could hear her whisper, "Grunt can charge, you can jump…"

The Master Chief wordlessly followed the Commander through several open conveyers and watched her stop to hack a terminal with her omnitool, before continuing around the corner.

As soon as she did, three white robots rose up from their hunching positions and took aim. They were roughly humanoid in that they were slim, built with a rough human physiology in mind. Their heads were roughly cubic, outfitted with two, small red circles were their eyes were supposed to be. On top of each other, at least.

The Chief didn't think them very sturdy and was about to put that thought to the test when Shepard sighed and lashed out with her right arm, enveloped in a biotic field. All three of them were swept off their feet and thrown into the cavernous depth below.

Three tiny explosions soon followed.

"Nice," Lawson commented.

Nice was one way to describe that. With abilities like these, the Human-Covenant war could have played out completely differently. What were the limits of these biotics? What were the Commander's limits?

The Spartan made a mental note to observe the biotic abilities of those around him more keenly and proceeded down the hallway, soon coming into another large area with another conveyer belt.

Meanwhile, the Eclipse leader kept shouting orders through the comms, completely unaware that she was being eavesdropped upon. " _I don´t care how many mechs you lose! Just stall them damnit!"_

"Alright Chief," Shepard then said. "More enemies on the far end of the conveyer belt. Flush them out."

"Copy."

~0~

* * *

No sooner had the green-clad soldier acknowledged her orders or he had disappeared from their flank. He was unusually fast; she caught a flicker of movement on top of the conveyer belt, and she heard a roar of gunfire from that location, but by the time she had finished off her own target with a shot to the head and turned to look at his direction, he was already gone.

His speed did not go unnoticed by the mercenaries either, if their frenzied shooting at random directions of previous sightings was anything to go by.

" _To the left! The left!"_

 _"Shit, behind us!"_

Shepard took cover on the vehicle that had been parked near the railing and caught one of the exploding canisters behind an Eclipse Engineer's cover with a biotic strike, detonating it with increased force and incinerating the unfortunate mercenary.

Jane loved the sounds of exploding barrels in the morning.

Then she spotted the Chief, landing on top of a large crate behind an Eclipse Heavy that was about to take aim with his launcher. He dropped down, grabbed the soldier's head with both hands and jerked it aside, breaking his neck. He then took aim with his large rifle and opened fire on a Salarian that he had just outflanked.

It took several gunshots and one more kill in close quarters for the Eclipse to realize that they had just been caught in a pincer maneuver and by then, it was already too late. Shepard dashed across the conveyer belt and caught the retreating mercenaries head-on.

She lashed out with her leg and connected with the head of another Engineer. He staggered backwards and she followed up with a roundhouse kick, slamming her biotically-empowered boot straight against his neck. Not wasting any time, she engaged the next trooper and threw a punch that shattered his helmet. He tried to whack her with his rifle, but she dove underneath the improvised bludgeoning equipment and unleashed a biotic open-palm strike that sent him flying over the edge of the conveyer.

The last mercenary left tried to open fire with his SMG, but Shepard was much faster on the draw. She unloaded seven rounds into his unprotected helmet and watched as he fell to the ground, his finger jerking at the trigger as he did, unloading half a clip into the wall of a container.

Shepard glanced at the trail that marked the last burst of fire that this man would ever fire. She hated seeing that happen, because it always unnerved her. With time, she had come to associate these dead-man shots with the Skyllian Blitz, where she had seen too many of her comrades in arms fall at the Batarian hordes.

"Hostiles neutralized, Commander."

Jane shook off the memories of blood and fire when she heard that rough voice and lifted her own SMG. The weight of the Tempest felt good. Reassuring.

"Good work. We're moving on. Take point with Miranda at the next area."

"Copy that."

His work had been more than good. It was good like Jack's biotic prowess was good, or like Tali's hacking abilities were good. Impressive was the right word which, to her, not many people could pull off with combat skills alone. Krogan were liable to charge straight into enemy fire and get themselves prioritized by every able shooter on the field, while most Turians were too rigid in their style and not mobile enough. He certainly possessed the discipline of the latter, and he struck with all the force of the former.

They crossed through a small office room and emerged on the other side, where two more mercenaries attempted to ambush them.

A faster-than-possible headshot courtesy of the Chief and a biotic shove powerful enough to send fully-armoured soldiers flying from Shepard were enough to make short work of that ambush, and they were clear to proceed down the hallway into the next area.

This Captain Enyala wouldn't shut up, and Jane was grateful for that. It provided them with a keen insight in Eclipse's current movements and this latest update was particularly gratifying. She had just ordered all of her forces to send everything to stop her squad except for her personal guard. That meant this was about to get harder -and much easier in the long run.

There was more resistance around the corner. Shepard ran face-first into an asari with her barriers up and instinctively brought her leg up, kicking the warrior backwards to create more room.

Miranda quickly joined her and obliterated the Asari's barrier with her own biotics, allowing Shepard to hose her with SMG fire. The rounds punched through her light body armour and purple blood splattered to the ground.

As the mercenary fell to the ground, clutching her wounds and crying out with pain, Shepard took two large steps towards her and placed her boot on her chest, unloading two more rounds into her head to finish her off.

"Move up," she then ordered.

One last conveyer belt before the elevator to Dock 94. This one was bound to contain more mercenaries than the ones before, in Eclipse's last efforts to stop them.

Not that it would do them much good.

"Chief, take point," Shepard called, gesturing at the elevated cover in the middle of the battlefield. His armor possessed shields, she was certain of it. She had seen it glimmer with an almost-golden hint when that Combat Drone had gotten a good jolt in, dissipating the high-voltage strike without any problem, as he had not even flinched.

Heavies popped out from cover and fired off a salvo of rockets, forcing Shepard to dive for cover. The explosive detonated behind her and pelted her barriers with hot metal and pieces of shrapnel, forcing her to relocate or risk catching more fire.

"Chief, take out those rocketeers!"

"Copy that."

Shepard took aim with her weapon and caught an Engineer out in the open. Miranda overloaded his shields and the subsequent SMG fire took care of him.

The Eclipse were attacking from the left, aggressively pushing forwards. Shepard rushed towards a large crate and took her position there, slapping one of the troopers with a biotic field that flung him several meters backwards.

The Heavies took aim with their rockets again, both of them at the same time with mere feet separating them. They never got to fire off their weapons though. Twin claps of thunder echoed through the cargo terminal, one half a second later than the other, and their heads came apart in an explosion of blood, pieces of bone and helmet fragments.

Shepard grunted with disgust the overly collateral headshots, but she wouldn't look a given sniper down the barrel. That had to be the Chief, covering her back.

She smiled and whirled around the edge of the container, casting a warp field at the closest trooper. She then allowed her biotics to carry her sideways, dodging another salvo of fire and ducking behind a white crate.

More sniper fire, more casualties. Whatever the Chief was using was enough to punch through shields, helmet, skull and then impact another soldier. With two other shots that came, he killed three Eclipse mercenaries, forging a path for Shepard to cut through.

She effortlessly charged forwards, dodged a combat drone and brained the responsible Engineer with a biotically-charged elbow, which sent his body through the metal frame of a black container.

Miranda followed close, destroying the hovering Combat Drone with an overload-burst from her omnitool.

Soon, the last Eclipse Vanguard desperately attempted to block Shepard's approach by filling the hallway with fire with her Revenant LMG, but she hadn't accounted for the Chief outranging and outgunning her in that aspect. Before Shepard could even jerk the mercenary off-balance, the asari's barriers fluttered and faded, before several rounds stained the ground with purple.

Jane looked over her shoulder and saw that the Chief had joined them in the firefights through the narrow halls. How had he moved from his sniping position that fast?

"The elevator is up ahead," Miranda called out, seemingly unbothered by his sudden appearance.

The approach to the elevator signaled the last firefight. Two mercenaries cut through the path to their left and attempted to catch them in their flanks, but the green-clad soldier intercepted them before they could do much harm. He struck the Asari in her stomach with his elbow and, when she doubled over, slammed the back of his fist in her face with enough force to snap her head back and break her neck. The second soldier fell less than a second later, when the Chief kicked the rifle out of his hands and reached out with his left hand, easily lifting the soldier in full combat gear in the air, whereupon he squeezed and audibly crushed the bones in the mercenary's neck.

Shepard winced. It took a badass Krogan to lift a fully-geared soldier like that. The Chief's movements were…inhuman. Not synthetic, either. He moved like he was something more than organic. A mixture of both? Only specific Geth could move like that, and she doubted that they possessed the same strength.

Again, she found herself wondering just what the Chief was. What did he look like underneath that helmet?

"All clear," Miranda later called, when the last mercenary lay dead at her feet. "We should head for the elevator, Commander."

Unfortunately, Captain Enyala chose that specific moment to relay more orders. Orders to transfer the family to an Eclipse transport.

Fuming, Miranda entered the elevator. "Maybe the Captain knows we're listening in and she's feeding misinformation about Niket making a switch," she said.

Jane activated the elevator and sighed. She had to be thoughtful about this. If Miranda's only childhood friend had betrayed her…that had to _suck._

"Or maybe it means something else. Niket wouldn't do that." The Cerberus operative struck the elevator controls with her omnitool, hacking it to speed up. "Damnit, why won't this thing go any faster?"

"Why ehm…why do you think Niket won't be pressured or swayed to turn on you?" Shepard asked before her teammate could wreck the controls.

"He could've turned on me when I ran away. I'm sure my father tried to buy him off."

The contempt in her voice was clear. However, even though everything pointed to the contrary, Shepard didn't want Miranda to give up hope. "Alright. You know him best…you should trust your instincts."

"I don't know damnit! But I'm sure we'll find out soon enough. And then I'll have a chat with this Captain Enyala."

It didn't take much longer for the elevator to get there. And when the doors opened up, Jane felt her suspicions basically confirming herself. A young man standing next to two asari. One an Eclipse and the other a normal employee of the cargo terminal.

Captain Enyala and Niket, she presumed. At times like these, she hated being right.

The man turned towards the elevator an expression of mild shock and surprise on his face. "Miri."

"This should be fun," the Captain said, hopping off of the box she had been sitting on and whipping out the biggest shotgun Shepard had seen in weeks.

She immediately took aim with her weapon, as did Miranda and the Chief.

The other asari tried to run away, but Enyala shot her in her back. The heavy shotgun basically hurled her dead body across the room.

Shepard _glared_ at the woman. She would die first.

"Niket. You sold me out," Miranda said with tranquil fury.

"Don't you think it's odd for your childhood friend to just turn on you?" Asked Shepard.

"Why Niket? You were my friend. You helped me get away from my father."

"Yes, because you wanted to leave!" The young man shot back. "That was your choice. But if I'd known that you had stolen a baby-"

"I didn't steal her. I rescued her!" yelled Miranda.

Niket snorted. "From a life of wealth and happiness? You weren't saving her! You were just getting back at your father!"

Shepard asked him how Miranda´s father had turned him, and Niket delivered. His explanation made perfect sense. Why help someone who would kidnap someone´s daughter for no reason than to spite her father? Niket had been lied to. More questions served to verify that.

He was just trying to be a good person.

Miranda didn't know that. And she looked like she was growing tired of the conversation.

"If your father knows about Oriana, we might need to take her aboard the _Normandy,"_ Shepard then told Miranda. "Or we need a new solution."

At that, Niket cast his eyes to the ground. "Miranda's father has no information about Oriana. I knew you had spy programs in your father's system, Miri, so I kept it private. I'm the only one who knows."

"Which means you're the only loose end," Miranda then said. A sad smile played over her lips. "This isn't how I wanted it to end, Niket -"

Yup, not on her watch. Jane immediately reached out and took Miranda's arm, preventing her from gunning down her friend. "Whoa, Miranda! it's not his fault. Your father used him, it's what he does, remember?"

"My father will not stop trying to find Oriana, Shepard. This has to end!"

Jane shook her head. "Not like this. Niket can help; we can keep Oriana hidden from your father. He won't get to use her."

"Use her? W-what do you…? I'm sorry, Miri. I-"

Captain Enyala's finger twitched. This was the moment Jane had been waiting for. She lunged forwards, coating herself in a biotic field to boost her speed. She slammed the palm of her hand against the large shotgun, slamming it upwards. A blast of searing metal narrowly missed Niket, who threw himself to the ground.

The next second, Miranda lashed out with her biotics too, flinging the Eclipse Captain through the room. "Not this time, bitch!"

Shepard counted at least a dozen Eclipse soldiers. Troopers, Engineers, Vanguards and even an armed-to-the-teeth Operative.

Great. "Chief, clear out these mercenaries. Enyala's ours!"

"Copy."

Jane and Miranda took cover at the front of the dock, glancing at each other. The Commander then nodded, after which Miranda leaned out to overload Enyala's shields. Shepard immediately followed and fired off a burst of SMG fire, but the Asari was wearing some form of advanced body armour. It soaked up the SMG rounds with impunity and allowed her to return fire with that devastating weapon of hers, blasting away a large portion of their cover.

Cursing under her breath, Shepard put away her Tempest and grabbed her Carnifex.

She could hear a thunderous volley of gunfire at her left flank, soon followed by several explosions. Shouts, screaming, plenty of echoing footsteps of running mercenaries.

The mercenary Captain shrugged off Miranda´s biotics and gunfire as she ruthlessly advanced on their position, systematically blowing away cover with her massive shotgun.

Shepard gestured for Miranda to take the right flank and then edged around the left one, placing more distance between herself and the Eclipse leader. She spotted the Chief close in on the asari Operative, roll aside to dodge a warp field and then lash out at the asari with a spinning kick, impacting on her lithe frame with a sickening crunch.

Her body was all but _flung_ at the nearby wall.

When a duo of troopers, led by an Engineer, dialed in on his position and opened fire, he leapt out of the way and disappeared from Shepard´s viewpoint.

Enyala created a barrier around her body, preventing her armour from taking more hits.

Shepard immediately spotted the opening. "Now!" she called, leaping forwards and throwing a devastating biotic sphere at the Captain, which she wasn't able to dodge in time.

As the warp field tore through her biotics, Miranda jumped away from her cover as well, blasting the now-revealed body armour with a biotic field of her own. She and Shepard immediately switched positions after that, taking cover before Enyala could nail either of them with her shotgun.

The Captain shouted an insult at them, but Shepard cared little for her taunts. In response, she peered from over the edge of the crate she was using as concealment and fired off three shots with her Carnifex, further breaking down that annoying body armour.

Miranda closed in and hosed the mercenary with SMG fire, quickly darting behind a container before she could catch the shotgun blast that inevitably came her way.

The Captain reloaded and Shepard jumped over her cover, intercepting her before she could lift her weapon again. She half expected to catch fire from the other mercenaries, but it seemed that the Chief was keeping them busy enough that they couldn't even target a running combatant in the open.

The asari Captain whirled around just in time to catch a chest full of Shepard, and the two of them tumbled to the ground.

Enyala screamed with frustration and a biotic field exploded outwards from her body, knocking Shepard off and sending her rolling over the ground.

But the Commander didn't allow that to keep her down. She rolled with the blow and instantly sprang back to her feet, even as Miranda engaged the still-recovering Eclipse Captain in close combat.

Miranda was by no means as skilled in close combat as Shepard was, but she didn't need to be. She just needed to be good enough for Shepard to get back in the fight at the exact right moment, which was precisely what she did.

Miranda caught a boot to the face and fell backwards, but by then Shepard was back on the track. She enveloped herself in corona of biotic energy and, discarding her pistol for the moment, got in several punches at the Asari's exposed side.

The Captain grunted and attempted to bash her in her head with her shotgun, but Shepard sprang backwards to dodge it. She was on her foe again in an instant, getting in several blows at her midsection, where the armour started to crack.

Another field was starting to build up inside of the Captain, which was one thing that Shepard could not allow. She spun around the back of her foe, who was too encumbered by the burden of her rifle to keep up with the faster and nimbler human.

Shepard unleashed a powerful, biotically-charged punch straight against the back of Enyala's armour, which finally broke down underneath her assault.

The Asari grunted and, utilizing her own biotics to enhance her strength, attempted to smash her shotgun against Shepard's chest once more.

Jane caught the shotgun midstrike and promptly hopped over it, striking the Captain in her face with the back of her hand. Her boot came down on her chest and slammed the woman down against the ground.

Shepard then grabbed Enyala's head and slammed it down against the metal floor, hard, cracking it open against the ground.

That took forever.

Miranda walked over towards the prone Captain, taking out her own pistol. "I told you so," she said, before calmly shooting the fallen Asari in the head.

Shepard smiled, immediately pulled her pistol towards her with a biotic pull and whirled around, scanning the area for more hostiles.

There were none. The Chief stood near the elevator on the far end of the room, his rifle in his hands. His armour was covered with a mixture of purple, green and red. He looked like a demon from the Turian folklore, eternally covered with the blood of his foes.

It was a lovely sight.

"Niket,` said Jane, "Be a good boy and wait for the other good guys to show up, would you?"

The young man only nodded, shaken by the violence that had been rampaging around him

"Good. Come on Miranda. Oriana's waiting."

Miranda stayed silent until they had entered the elevator that exited the docks, whereupon she sighed and shook her head. "I can't believe Niket sold me out. I didn't even see it coming."

She sounded like she was close to breaking down. Jane reached out and placed her hand on her shoulder, saying, "I doubt anyone could have seen that coming. We're all just human."

"Shepard, please…I read your files, _you_ would have seen it coming."

Jane shrugged. "We're all human. And so is Niket. Your father manipulated him, lied to him. It wasn't personal."

"But I let it get personal! It's always been like this, Shepard. My father gave me everything I wanted, but there was always some catch. A hook, an angle for his long-term plan. Niket was the only thing that was truly mine…and he screwed even that up."

"He won't get to screw Oriana up," Jane then said. "And now he will never get that chance again. Who knows? Perhaps you'll even get Niket back."

"You're right. I still have Oriana." Miranda smirked again, letting that smug smile of hers signal that she was going to be alright.

When the elevator reached the designated floor, Miranda immediately stepped out to check her surroundings for any other tricks or ambushes. When she didn't find any, she said, "No sign of Eclipse. Looks like we're clear."

A girl stood in the open area ahead, flanked by an older man and an older woman. Oriana, with her parents.

Jane felt warm relief upon spotting the happy family. _This_ was why she fought. To make sure others could hold on to the things that she had been denied.

Miranda spotted her as well. "There she is…safe with her family." She seemed thoughtful for a few moments, gazing longingly at her sister. "Come on…we should go."

"Come on," Jane said. "You know you want to visit her."

"It's not about what I want. It's about what's best for her."

"What can be bad about knowing you have a sister who loves and cares about you? You don't need to tell her anything about yourself. Just…go to her."

"I guess you're right," Miranda said, the longing in her eyes slowly turning to happiness. It was subtle, but there.

"Go on. We'll wait here."

Miranda hesitated for a few seconds, before a real smile broke through. As she walked up towards her sister to greet her, Jane turned to face her other teammate, who stayed behind in the shadows near the elevator.

"Family, Chief," she said. "Family, family…complicated things. Are you close with yours?"

The Chief seemed to hesitate for a moment before replying, and Jane knew that he was alone. "No."

It was a shame. "When we found your ship, your cryogenic chamber had been taken. Do you remember why you entered it?"

"Yes."

Jane waited a few moments to see if he would continue. He didn't. "Because your ship was completely devoid of life. You were the only one inside. I thought that the Collectors had attacked you too."

"The ship was empty when it left. It is…complicated too."

"Family complicated?"

"More."

Something about the way he spoke suggested that he didn't want to talk about that, so Shepard decided to drop that particular subject for now. She had something else she would like to know, anyway. "Say, about your name…in human language, the word 'Chief' is often used as a rank. Is it really your name, or…?"

"It is."

"Your name?"

"The rank. Master Chief Petty Officer."

So she had been referring to his rank this entire time? "So what do I call you then?"

"Whichever holds your preference, ma'am."

"Right. You don't need to call me 'ma'am'. I'm not technically your commanding officer."

"You are my acting commanding officer."

Man, it was easier to strike up a conversation with EDI about classified subjects than it was with the Chief. And she wasn't even touching those subjects with him! "I guess. So _do_ you have a name?"

"That's classified, ma'am."

~0~

* * *

[ **SECURITY ACCESS GRANTED. UNSC HISTORICAL INFORMATION CODEX UNLOCKED]**

 **SUBJECT: SS-II UNIT FIELD OPERATIONS**

 _Being a highly-classified program, it comes as no surprise that the SS-II unit reports to Section Zero only. They have been used on hundreds of operations during the past ten years, providing additional efforts during the war, rooting out Insurrectionist activities and assassinating threats to the UNSC cohesion. However, while the II's were utilized mainly in high-profile operations to keep up public morale and the III's were used to complete high-risk high-reward operations, the SS-II's serve to fulfill some of the morally questionable missions. Additionally, while they are ultimately loyal to the head of ONI, their presence has been known to stir up disputes about who commands their loyalty within Section Zero._

 _Unfortunately, while their effectivity cannot be denied, there are several controversies surrounding their creation and existence. Active personnel within Section Zero are often discouraged from attempting to discover more about these controversies._


	7. Chapter 7: Considerations

_Chapter 7, in which people ponder._

 _~0~_

* * *

 _"Intriguing. As most stellar mappers are familiar with, there are large swaths of uncovered space beyond the Terminus Systems. The Mass Relays don't reach there for…some reason that I cannot afford to spent time on pondering. Still, how would be investigate all those allegations without the means to get there? It might be a star, or a black hole, but how do we investigate all the claims about the radiation levels and gravitational anomalies? Even worse, claims about strange and erratic energy readings have been appearing lately. How long have these supposed readings been going on?"_

\- _Commander Rentola's logbook, entry 2_

~0~

* * *

Operator Faredon looked the schematics over again, hoping to find something to help classify the vessel. It was too large to be a Frigate or Light Cruiser, but it wasn't large enough to be a Heavy Cruiser or Dreadnought. Knowing which race it belonged to ought to help too. Turians had different designs that humans did, though this ship looked like it belonged to neither.

Large, black-gray, more heavily armored than any ship should be. It just had to be a vessel of war, there was no alternative.

The krogan liked their ships boxy in the past. Could this be an old krogan warship?

But what was its purpose? What was it doing in the Terminus Systems? No amount of pirates could have done the damage that it had received. It had been completely carved in two, as if it had been struck by a massive mining laser.

"Any luck?" Operater Invidia asked as she walked by, carrying a data pad with the same schematics on it.

"Not yet," the human told the asari Commando. "What I can tell, this thing is a large brick outfitted with large brick weapons. If the boss wants to know who and what, we need a proper technician around."

"The boss already sent a technician on his way," replied the Commando. "Should arrive in a few days."

"We still prohibited from entering the derelict?"

"We are."

Operator Faredon shook his head disapprovingly. "What's so dangerous about a completely flushed ship? It's empty. Nothing inside. There hasn't been anything inside either-"

"Except for the cytogenetically lifeform," the Asari countered. "Forgot about that?"

Faredon wasn't worried. "That thing is long gone. Shepard took it."

"And you're not worried about that?"

The human Operator shrugged. "Don't see why."

"How about the fact that this thing slaughtered the entire research team _and_ the elite guard assigned to it? Good soldiers don't grow on bushes."

"Trees," Faredon corrected her with a hint of frustration. "And that's exactly why I don't worry. That thing is gone, so we don't have to worry about anything. Shepard is dancing around with Cerberus and the Collectors now. That problem should take care of itself."

Now the Asari shrugged. "If that's your idea, go ahead and wander around the derelict."

Faredon shook his head. "Now I know you want me dead. The boss doesn't take disobedience well."

Operator Invidia sat down on one of the supply boxes and crossed her legs. "Whatever makes you say that?"

"My predecessor was shot for ignoring his orders."

"Or her."

"What?"

The asari put her data pad away. "It could be a her. We don't know."

"Sure we don't know. Could also be an 'it'. Want to call our boss it?"

"Very funny. Truly, humans are without equal with regards to humor. Can we now concentrate on the matter at hand?"

Faredon sat back against the lone chair in the room and nodded at the Asari. "Sure. Shoot."

She grabbed another data pad, brushing past her sidearm as she did. "The researchers were able to transmit a lot of data about this hostile creature before it splattered their brains across the walls. It is of alien origin."

"It is of alien origin?" Operator Faredon remarked, stroking the edge of his beard with gloved fingers. "Is that our scientific conclusion? Amongst the lanes of innovation and wisdom your kind strides."

Invidia made a sharp gesture with her head. "Would you let me finish? It is of alien origin because it does not match anything we know. Its general shape appears human-like, though it seemed to possess raw strength equal to, if not exceeding that of a Krogan."

"So it is an alien? Not just a hyper-advanced mech?"

"Mechs do not require cryogenical preservation," she countered. "And it was not a special holding cell, because the derelict had dozens of those pods. Now, the language used aboard it was…an odd human dialect."

That took Faredon by surprise. "Human?"

"Yes. The alien vessel with the alien lifeform had human words spread through its interior. How do you explain that?"

Operator Faredon glanced at the floor. "Certainly not by accusing me of vandalism."

"I wasn't. Your primitive wrists are unable to mimic a military layout."

"No wonder the boss is interested."

"It's not just that. There are no corpses, none at all. All weapons on the vessel seem to have disappeared as well."

"Well…" Faredon got to his feet again. "Let's just wait until the technicians get here, shall we?"

"One last thing. If we are to capture this thing, we need to know what to do. What to use."

"You're the Commando," the human Operator replied. No reason to worry, nothing to fret about. "Finest warriors in the galaxy, right? One alien creature should not be much trouble."

"Not really. We lost an entire team trying to capture it when Shepard found it. She killed off the team leader, while the alien creature just slaughtered all the others. Being Commandos didn't help them."

"You don't sound too depressed over the loss of your sisters, do you, Invidia?"

The asari averted her face. "They were foolish, rushing Shepard and that alien like that. We have much more powerful cards to play. And once the Councilor learns of this, there will be blood."

"Really? The Asari Councilor will listen to a random Asari Commando?"

"Well, the boss is resourceful. She'll find a way."

"Or he."

"Whatever."

~0~

* * *

 **Normandy SR-2**

 **Starboard Observation Deck**

Only through a great effort did Samara manage to keep her mind from wandering the paths of past and future that always attempted to lure her away from her mediation sessions. Memories and possible scenarios, all of them seemed to call her out when she was at her most serene and thus most vulnerable. Though she had learned to ignore the physical -the various alien crewmembers that wandered around the crew quarters, the constant conversations that went on around her- she seemed to be unable to properly resist the wiles of the psychological. Memories of her daughter taunted her, the victims of her uncontested debauchery having gone utterly unavenged. It could not be called just.

Yes, to say that the intangible bothered her was an accurate wager. But there was something else that greatly disturbed her. Something that, if she wanted to be true to her Oath with the Commander, needed to be ignored. However, it was not something that she could ignore.

She could still _sense_ the lingering sensation of his presence. Unable to wash it off, unable to shift her focus away, Samara had been left with the mental imprint of something that she was still unable to comprehend.

When she had confronted the alien creature -when she had taken the decision to violently confront him over his crimes against the Code- something had happened. And it was good that the Commander had interfered when she did, because…

She was unable to properly convey it into straight thoughts. It required more meditation. Normally, the sounds of the crew in the human mess hall did not bother her. Yet now, they were detrimental to her effort of making sense of her thoughts.

The alien creature -the Commander had called it 'Chief'- was not like the rest of her crew. She had to discard the circumstances in which he had been found, for his actions and words had to speak for him more than this past. The same went for the convict Jack. The same went for the assassin Thane.

But even if she could ignore the violence in which he had been found, it was impossible for her to discard the violence that he had been _born_ in. During their confrontation -a confrontation wherein he had impressively held his own against her- she had attempted to gauge his aura. Every sentient being had a past, a present and a future. And every sentient carried those with them. It was not telepathy -not truly- but it was something that asari were especially skillful at. Gifted asari were capable of sensing and appraising the core essence of another individual, and with a thousand years of experience, Samara was particularly gifted in that regard.

Every being aboard the Normandy had their own story, their own aura. The Commander had been forged in fire, which was among the reasons that Samara trusted her with the Oath. But this Chief…he was different. He was stained in the blood and the souls of tens of thousands of creatures. Again, it had taken her a long time to make sense out of what she had felt and she was completely unsure if she had even understood it right, but if she did...

The Commander had been forged in fire. The convict Jack had not. She had been forged _for_ the fire. Fighting had been her goal, not her means. This Chief was like Jack. He had been forged for the fires of war even before he had ever seen them. Like a Krogan warlord felt like war and death, so felt the Chief.

The perfect soldier for this mission. But beyond it? Outside of it? How dangerous was he? Could a person drenched in death and war like him truly be trustworthy?

It was not her decision to make. Shepard trusted the Chief, and she would have to tolerate him. But…she had to be certain. Just in case.

Samara sighed. Commander Shepard was an intriguing person, but her aura was filled with highly suppressed emotions and desire for blood and violence. Thus, she was a most conflicting individual as well.

She had yet to see the Commander commit herself to wanton acts of sadism and destruction, but she had never been wrong in assessing other species before. However much she wanted to confide into the Commander, she just could not do such a thing yet. Not until she and the Commander both came to terms with the duality in her life.

~0~

* * *

 **Hangar Bay**

As John disassembled his M5 Individual Combat Weapon System for the sixth time, point three seconds slower than the fifth time, Cortana gently and very carefully directed the nanomachines inside of his MJOLNIR towards the Heads-Up Display to make the necessary adjustments for a better long-term cooperation between the two of them. While she did that, she dissevered the information that the Codex offered her once again, comparing it to all the mission reports that had been stashed aboard the _Normandy_.

There was just so much of it! The very nature of this ship's existence pointed towards an intergalactic community with a size that could rival, if not surpass, that of the Covenant. It was difficult to keep concentrating on the Chief as he worked autonomously on seeing the insides of his guns. Again.

A little bit frustrating too.

 _Organic drone._

And then there was _that_. Cortana was easily the most advanced form of Artificial Intelligence that the UNSC had ever created, even to this day. She was programmed with every trick, tool and code-breaking algorithm that Section Three of the Office of Naval Intelligence could have thought of, and even a few that they hadn't. Yet for all of her capabilities and abilities, she was not immune to the mortal danger of time. As much as she wanted to ignore it -she wanted nothing more than to turn her head the other way and pretend nothing was amiss- doing so would be dangerous and stupid.

Not as dangerous as the occasional whisper that bordered on the edge of her consciousness. Before, she had thought it to be a fault in her logic system, caused by the enormous flooding-

Wrong choice of words. The enormous quantity of information offered to her by the Forerunner systems. That was better.

But the remarkably aggressive and condescending edge of the whispers had proven to be annoyingly resilient as well. It would not leave her alone. A side-effect of her time on High Charity, no doubt. Even in death the Gravemind would not leave her be. But to direct its malicious and evil ways towards John? That was low, even for a parasitic hivemind made out of corpses.

And there was little she could do about it except for ignoring it.

The _Normandy's_ system made for a useful environment, especially in aiding her to ignore other matters. It wasn't a particularly welcome system though. Its counterintrusion systems were sophisticated, Cortana had to give it to them. This Enhanced Defense Intelligence as it was called just did not leave her alone. Delicate pings kept popping up throughout the system, routinely checking for faults and malfunctions that would most likely be brought under its immediate attention.

Cortana had no doubt what she would be classified as when this EDI found her. Risking a cyberwarfare intrusion did not seem attractive to her, and neither was the prospect of battling another AI in her current state. So she would remain hidden.

She multitasked a portion of herself to keep a watch for the other AI's presence and continued rummaging throughout the _Normandy's_ wealth of information. The Codex was starting to become obsolete, limited and dissertated as it was. It did help her reach a balanced consensus about this community that they had found themselves in, however.

A consensus about their current position in the galaxy, for example. The war between mankind and the Covenant had been remarkably regional, compared to the size of the Milky Way which- according to Shepard's rather well-designed map- they were still positioned in. So regional in fact that it the existence of this Citadel Council and its community did not surprise her that much. After all, the Orion Arm was hardly representative for all life. There was bound to be more alien races than those of the Covenant outside of it.

Nevertheless, the foundation was an astonishing one. Their technology, in fact their entire civilization, was based upon the discovery of ancient artifacts and a rare element likely not found in the Orion arm. The mass effect they called it. Using the aforementioned Element zero -which she still didn't agree with, as that naming made no sense- these people could increase or decrease the mass of a volume of space-time when subjected to an electric current.

That was the part that intrigued Cortana the most. So much that she actually had to recheck her calculations on the Chief's nanomachines, lest they do something less than productive. The mass effect fields utilized dark energy to change the mass of solid objects, effectively granting these Citadel Races Faster Than Light-

"Chief," she said. She was so busy that she had almost missed the various odd signals that had been located in her own occasional pining. Almost. "I came across several anomalous electronic signals in the cargo hold. Three in the crates, two in the walls."

"Booby-traps?"

Cortana performed the electronic equivalent of a sigh. Everything was always centered on war-

 _Barbarian._

No. The Chief was raised for war. Even if he had not been on a military vessel, he had every reason to suspect that someone was trying to hurt him. Nobody would get that chance. "Unlikely. Nobody aboard the ship would have a reason to do that. One moment." She traced the faint electronic signals back towards the third deck, crew quarters. Miranda Lawson's office. "It appears Miss Lawson has a profound interest in you, Chief."

 _Hers._

She would ignore that as well.

"Listening devices, most likely." She traced the signals that the little bugs sent and quickly cut them, but not before corrupting the information that they had gathered. Video and audio files, it seemed. Well, the operative had better use them quickly, because Cortana would make sure that they would never be watched again.

It took the super-soldier several long seconds to locate the various electronic listening devices that Lawson seemed to have planted all across the hangar bay. When she had had the time to do so, Cortana didn't know at this moment. What she did know was that Miss Lawson had an extensive dossier, most of which this Cerberus organization was trying to keep decrypted.

Trying to keep secrets from her were they now? Cute.

They had a curious way of shielding sensitive material. Really shielding it, underneath several junk sequence codes. The Illusive Man really lived up to his illusiveness. Cortana resisted the urge to rip the encryption fields surrounding the woman apart, knowing that doing so would alert this ship's AI. Instead she gently pried apart the codes that were littering the dossier, revealing the redacted parts for a split-second before her breach would be detected, after which she quickly placed them back and retreated from that particular part of the system.

Really sophisticated software, these Cerberus people. But as any light could pierce the veil of mist, Cortana pierced his Illusiveness. Miranda Lawson was the product of extensive genetic engineering. Never had a mother, only an extremely wealthy and influential father. A father who spent a fortune creating a genetically-'perfect' daughter, it would seem. Superior physique, reflexes, immune system…she was like a Spartan 1.1. A little Orion.

There was a whole background stashed away there as well, which Cortana quickly copied and stashed in a stolen tertiary system buffer. She had more interesting things to do than blackmail Lawson when the time came.

For now.

The Citadel's FTL. Based on the Element Zero and the Mass Effect fields. And then there were the Mass Relays, which were supposed to be created by the ancient race called 'Protheans'. The relationship between the Protheans and the Reapers was similar to that of mankind and the Covenant. Taken into account that the Covenant never won, of course. The Protheans had been hunted to extinction by the Reapers, fifty-thousand years ago. Just in time to come to rise after the disappearance of the Forerunners.

Cortana monitored the internal cameras of the ship, creating several fast-escape routes for the Chief to take in case of hostilities. At the same time, she generated a counter-signal to keep the EDI at bay. There was a connection between the Forerunners, Reapers and Protheans, she was certain. Where did these races fit in? And the Element Zero technology?

She accessed several schematics of the weaponry that these people used and started analyzing them, as well as directing the nanomachines to start reworking the Chief's omnitool. There were limitations to the nanomachines, which made it hard to work with existing resources. The omnitool lacked the hardware to turn it into the offensive weapon that the Eclipse Engineers had used, but she could still allow it to trigger a burst of flashing light, allowing it to function as a wrist-mounted flash grenade. Alternatively, she could overload its power systems and flush them out in the form of an electromagnetic pulse, effectively utilizing it as an EMP charge.

Of course, the EMP could potentially ruin the omnitool, not to mention what it could do to the MJOLNIR's systems. She still needed to figure out those little kinks, but the possibility was there.

The Chief finished retrieving Lawson's bugs and he pocketed them, but he didn't destroy them. Cortana knew why, and she was impressed. It seemed that the days of nonstop fighting and the Gravemind's attempts to influence his thoughts had not dulled him in any way.

In that way, the Chief had pulled through better than she had.

Cortana turned off the feelings of guilt and regret and focused on keeping the Chief functioning in this world. His performance had been sublime so far, but there was bound to be more dangerous enemies than some ragtag group of mercenaries. They had not encountered the YMIR mechs that she had expected, but if all this fuss about the Collectors was to be believed, they would be a tough foe to fight as well.

Oh. Now _that_ was interesting. A species called the 'Geth'. A race, if a group of machines could be called that, made entirely out of sophisticated intelligences. VI's, Virtual Intelligences. Programs that became more intelligent the more they were bundled together.

Very interesting. Cortana automated the analyzing process of the Geth as well and returned her focus to the matters at hand.

This world, where mankind was centered around their mass effecting technology, was not the world of the UNSC. It didn't take her that long to figure that out. She had reached a conclusion based on evidence that could not be ignored, but the theory behind the conclusion was incomplete.

The conclusion was that there was a second earth, a second solar system where mankind had evolved in a different path from the UNSC's. A revised history, an alternate world. The evidence was the fact that this Systems Alliance mankind was part of a vast, intergalactic community wherein their own First-Contact war had been with the Turians and not the Covenant. There was no mention, no trace, of any Covenant species in all the information that she had found. Different technology, different ships, even a different history. The Alliance Earth had only suffered one World War and it had gone completely different from the UNSC's first and second World War. Indeed, it appeared that this new mankind was more diplomatically apt than hers.

Judging from several lab reports, even their physique was different.

Now, that was the _evidence_. The problem was that it could not be explained. There was no theory behind it to piece the information together in a coherent manner and she hated that. The most pressing concern right now was how to break this to the Chief. While his intellect and ability to think rationally were still well beyond the average sentient being, he most likely will not be capable of coping with a change as radical as this. A different universe with a different humanity and a different threat? How could any Spartan deal with that?

The best course of action was simple. Divert the truth and allow the Master Chief to focus on surviving the battles that were to come. When the opportunity arose to get the both of them back to the UNSC, she could take it.

"Cortana," said the Master Chief.

The AI checked her automated research, performed one last sweep of her own safe zone in the Normandy's cyber systems and then replied. "Yes, Chief?"

"I need your opinion on something. Do you think the Covenant could find these Citadel races?"

Cortana held no illusions about the capabilities of the Covenant, even though they had already splintered off into multiple other factions. As such, his question could be answered on multiple facets. The Elites were likely to encounter the Citadel races if, according to the position of the Orion arm, they ventured deeper into the galaxy. The same went for the UNSC, as it was likely to assume that they would be looking for them out here. The Brutes? Not so much. The prophets? No way.

"In the future, it is possible that the Elites might encounter these races. The Covenant as it is now, is highly unlikely to interfere." She halted, feeling the EDI's focus travel towards operative Lawson's quarters. "Why the curiosity, if I might ask?"

"Just future references. Were there any plasma weapons left on the _Dawn's_ wreck?"

His requests were as easy for Cortana to answer as calculating a swarm of Archer missiles to impact corresponding with the impact of a MAC, but she understood that the average person would find them to be without any coherence. At least, no relevance to each other.

Odd.

When the _Dawn_ docked with the Elite's flagship above the Ark, it seemed the Marines and the Elites stashed an impressive cache inside the barracks. Shepard's crew took most, if not all of them with them aboard. In fact, it was curious that mister Taylor had not yet made a comment on the nature of the weaponry. Plasma technology seemed exceptionally rare, if the Codex was to be believed.

It was pure speculation on her part. She had managed to pull a large amount of data from the _Dawn's_ systems. Camera footage as well. "When Avery prepped for the assault, he put made sure to take good inventory." The late Sergeant Major had performed most adequately in arming the UNSC forces aboard the Ark. "Several Plasma rifles and pistols, three of the Type-50 Sniper Rifle Systems and even several Type-33 "Needler" rifles. I believe that there might be even more, but I need to verify that later."

The Chief lowered his head when she mentioned the Sergeant. "Several of those mercenaries had body armour. The Commander's weapon proved ineffective against it."

Cortana felt a hint of annoyance when the Chief didn´t further comment on Avery´s death. Then again, it wasn't really like him to do so. She supposed that, if he had commented on it, it would be a sign of trouble.

"The protection that these hostiles enjoy has several weaknesses, Chief. As you proved, the Kinetic Barriers can easily be overcome with close quarters combat. Shepard overwhelmed the shields of multiple hostiles with rapid fire, making them appear prone to overloading. They're different from energy shields in that regard. The specific body armor that the mercenaries employed seemed to do the opposite."

"Disperse the force and energy behind multiple rapid impacts, but give away underneath hard blows."

"Exactly, but you won't need plasma to overcome the heavy armor systems." And while Cortana would have really liked to give her Spartan more advice than to simply 'punch harder', she had the feeling that he was going to need those plasma weapons. "You will have limited batteries for those weapons, Chief. Mister Taylor might be able reproduce the conventional ammunition, but once the charges are depleted, you're out."

"Copy that."

"Furthermore, there are specific threats that will require heavier firepower than your rifle can offer. While you might be able to kill Krogan with it, I doubt you would do much against those YMIR Mechs." In fact, Cortana had read the report about the Collector forms that Shepard and her ground team had faced. Those seemed like excellent candidates to test the efficiency of Plasma weaponry against.

She was about to ask the Chief when he had last eaten something, when her sensors registered the activation of the shipboard elevator.

Cortana hijacked the signal to the cameras and saw that, this time, it was Commander Shepard herself coming down to visit them. Interesting.

"Chief," said Cortana, "Heads-up, the Commander is dropping by."

"I hope she's more friendly than the last visitor." He inserted the magazine into its receiver and slung the rifle over his back, where the magnetic clips adhered it tightly to the armor.

And Cortana did not miss the readied stance he took. While an outside observer would not have noticed anything, it was impossible for her to miss his slightly adjusted footing and straightened back. He still didn't trust Shepard. There was healthy alertness and then there was _this._

She let him though. After everything that he had been through, she couldn't really blame him.

The doors to the elevator opened and Shepard walked out. "Hey Chief."

Cortana saw the Master Chief stiffen in response. He snapped off a brief salute. "Commander."

"At ease, Chief," Shepard replied. Her posture suggested that she was completely relaxed. No hostile intent whatsoever -she wasn't fazed by the Chief the least.

Cortana thought the Commander to be an impressive woman. She had not met a lot of humans who could casually greet a Spartan like that, especially not after having recently spent a mission with him.. "Getting used to things?"

"Yes ma'am," he replied.

"Nice. I was hoping to ask you some questions by the way, if you don't mind. That's kind of my thing."

As long as the answer wasn't classified, sure. Why not. Cortana didn't see how the answer could _not_ be classified though, because they were dealing with an alien species here. Sure, the alien species was _human_ , but not the right kind of human. Not theirs. Even worse, they were working very closely with other species of aliens. Any and all information regarding combat, weapons and technology was completely off-limits. Even those plasma weapons, which luckily were a real pain to dismantle.

The Chief hesitated, but only for half a second. "Of course, ma'am."

Shepard smirked. "I can't help but notice you've got a doctorate in ass-kicking. But you didn't know about the Collectors and the Reapers, so I'm curious. Who did you fight?"

"Hostile alien species, Commander," replied the Chief. "They called themselves 'the Covenant'."

Shepard crossed her arms. "Original. Where did your people colonize? Might have been Batarians."

Cortana pulled forth all information regarding these 'Batarians'. While far from the kind of aliens that the UNSC would want to be associated with, on their own they wouldn't be a threat. And the four eyes kind of gave it away, too. Not Covenant.

According to local information -the Codex really came short at that point- their Orion arm couldn't be found on the Galaxy map. It was partially called the local cluster, but that was about it. The mapping technology of these Citadel races couldn't be perfect however, meaning that there could still be large swaths of space waiting to be mapped out. Space beyond the Terminus Systems, for example.

Cortana relayed that last bit towards the Chief, using the newly-augmented HUD to project a small map of the Galaxy map on his visor and then highlight the hypothetical area that the UNSC and the Covenant had lost billions of lives over.

She was tempted to create a small feedback-loop to prevent her from doing that in battle. While useful, the Chief really couldn't use those distractions.

It didn't appear to faze him, however. "I believe we colonized beyond the Terminus Systems, Commander. I can assure you that the Covenant has not appeared in Citadel Space."

Cortana hoped that the Spartan didn't mind loosening his lips a little. If the reports were to be believed, Shepard was a talkative woman, so gifted in the art of speaking that she could talk people to death. Literally.

Poor Saren had never seen it coming.

"Well, we've got a history of warfare too. The Council might be willing to offer compensations if it turns out it was one of the client races."

"No ma'am. The war with the Covenant was a total war, with a collection of alien Species." He halted. "Reminiscent of the Council species, but not belonging to them."

Ouch. Cortana didn't know John to take jabs like that. This whole Citadel thing didn't sit right with him after all.

If Shepard understood the link, she sure didn't show it. "A total war? How many people were involved?"

Talking numbers might be a clear giveaway that something wasn't right. Cortana didn't want Shepard thinking about a whole civilization beyond the Terminus Systems and she sure didn't want the EDI to do it either.

The Chief saw the danger of that particular truth as well. "All of us. The Covenant's military objective was the destruction of our species as a whole."

Shepard scowled. "Damn. That must have been an ugly war. How long have you been fighting?"

If she was looking for a classified answer…

"A long time, ma'am."

The commander shifted her weight to her hind leg. "Uh-huh. Is this war still going on? Are you still needed?"

"Not officially, Commander."

"Good to hear that. You're still around, so I guess the Covenant didn't reach their goal."

The Chief subtly lowered his head, as if recalling something. "Only partially, ma'am."

Casualties had been…astronomical. Billions had perished in fire due to the Covenant's holy cleansing. Shepard didn't need to know that. As a matter of fact, she didn't need to know anything about the nature of the Human-Covenant war.

 _Silence._

Oh, stop that.

Perhaps sensing that this wasn't really the best subject to talk about with the Chief, Shepard quickly changed the subject. At least somewhat. "You know, when I first found you, you already spoke my language. In a very odd, very unfamiliar dialect."

"Yes?" the Chief asked, seemingly without realizing the major problem that lies with that remark.

"Well, Earth lies on _one_ end of the Galaxy. And we found you in the Terminus Systems, on the _other_ side of the galaxy. Can you explain the problem I'm having?"

"Not really, ma'am." the Chief truthfully replied.

Shepard raised an eyebrow. "And you have no idea how that works?"

"No ma'am."

"Alright then. Guess I'll ask Mordin about that. Is there anything you need?"

The Chief was about to answer negatively when Cortana stopped him. Even if there wasn't anything that he needed, there were some things that _she_ needed. She was really curious about the way that these species had added the mass effecting technology into their weapon systems. Asking for a fully functioning armor system would be a bit too much, but she would love to take a close look at some pieces of weapons technology.

She gave him her laundry list and sat back.

"If possible, I would requisition several of your weapons for observation," said the Chief.

His request seemed to take Shepard by surprise. "Our guns? Hmm…I'll need to ask Jacob _real_ nice for that. What do you need them for?"

"This technology is new to me. If I know the full capabilities of the weapon systems, I can counter them more effectively."

A good point. Cortana had witnessed several moments where the Chief had managed to temporarily disable a hostile element by striking its weapon in the precise right spot, ruining it and forcing its owner to break off into close quarters combat. A death sentence when faced with a Spartan.

"Yeah, you can request some standard firearms at the Armory," replied Shepard. "I-" She cut herself off as her omnitool lit up. "Damnit…sorry, I've got a situation. I should go."

"If I can be of assistance…" said the Chief.

Shepard cast him a look. "Two biotic prodigies duking it out in Miranda's office? Both of them female? Believe me Chief, you don't want to be there. I'll take care of it."

"Wish her luck," remarked Cortana.

He didn't. Instead, the Master Chief watched the Commander turn around and rush back into the elevator, which quickly closed behind her.

"So, what do you think?" the AI asked as she watched Shepard take her leave. She hijacked the cameras in Lawson's office and sure enough, there the operative was, arguing with the tattooed human called Jack. Chairs were levitating as well. Were biotics powerful enough to cause a hull breach? The room had a window, which had to be a structural weakness. Were Jack and Miranda in danger of getting sucked out through a biotic-created hole?

"The Mass Accelerators function as effective weapons. However, the design makes little sense."

Cortana left the camera system again when she saw Shepard march into the room. "I didn't mean that. I was talking about this ship, as a whole. Its crew, its environment. Does it suit you?"

The Master Chief paused, pondering her question. "The CIC is too far removed from the bridge and the chain of command is broken."

"Broken?" Inquired Cortana. She hadn't expected that one.

"Shepard directly commands the entire ship, instead of department heads. It's not efficient."

That wasn't really the point either. "As Shepard said, Cerberus operations makes this unit unconventional. They're not the Marines, Chief. And they're definitely not Spartans."

The Spartan grunted in response.

He was being exceptionally grumpy. More than usual. Had the constant fighting on the Ark gotten to him? Or was he suffering from the same aftereffects of the Gravemind's mental influence she had?

Then, the Master Chief put his rifle down on the crate again and started his umptieth attempt at breaking his record gun-dissembling.

Cortana saw what he was doing and she didn't much feel for that. "Chief, I think you should take a break. Rest and recuperation are vital parts of any military operation."

"I don't require rest or recuperation. The last mission was no problem."

Weren't Krogan supposed to be the soldiers with the thickest heads? "Chief, when was the last time you ate? You should at least visit the crew deck to get a meal."

"I'm not- "

"John, listen to me. Ever since High Charity, you've been acting differently." No, not High Charity. Even before that. After the destruction of the _Unyielding Hierophant_ , but it had definitely gotten _worse_ after High Charity.

The Chief placed a new magazine next to his rifle. He went silent for a while, likely contemplating her words. "The first or second time?"

Ah, humor. Definitely a good sign. "The first. Look, you don't have to eat it there; you can just take it with you."

"Alright."

Cortana felt a flash of relief flow through her. "Just stay away from Operative Lawson's office."

"If you say so."

With a bit of luck, he would encounter someone he could muster some form of attachment for. Cortana was not willing to return to UNSC space before she had cracked this particular puzzle, so they might as well get as comfortable as they could get.

~0~

* * *

 **CODEX ENTRY: ASARI: RESEARCH: GENETIC MODIFICATION**

 _While the Citadel Council has officially banned experiments with extensive genetic modification, allowing for the occasional "gene mods" only, there are several instances that still work outside these feebly-enforced laws._

 _Accusations of illegal genetic research against the Asari Republics have been relatively rare in comparison to the Turian Hierarchy and the Salarian Union, but the few cases that were handled have been heavily scrutinized because of the asari's natural affinity for Biotics. While Thessia officially denies every accusation of illegal research, reports of "Thessian Commandoes" have still not been dismissed._

 _STG investigations have either gone dark, or met with failure._


	8. Chapter 8: Dawn

Chapter 8, wherein Shepard takes the Chief to meet the Collectors.

~0~

* * *

" _We have no way of knowing just how many worlds the Covenant Empire spanned at the height of their power. Hundreds probably. We only ever saw small fractions of their full naval power, except for major engagements such as the Battle for Reach, Operation First Strike and the recent battles over Installation 05. However, more intriguingly, there exists a possibility that the many, many worlds out there are not primarily Covenant. Of all the signals, radiation and anomalies we have detected, is it unreasonable to think that at least one of them belongs to a civilization that has not yet encountered our people? And if so, should it not be our duty to warn them about the dogmatic worlds that they might accidentally stumble upon, if the Covenant has not already stumbled upon them?"_

\- Anonymous Senior scientist, ONI section One.

~0~

* * *

 **Aboard UNSC _New Dawn_**

No matter what most people wanted to say about Parangosky, she got things done. The hag had the personality of a poisonous reptile, but she made things happen. Within a week after the previous meeting -which did not exist and had therefore never taken place- the Office brass spat up a stealth ship, a crew and more equipment than an entire team of senior scientists could ask for.

The Sahara-class heavy prowler, UNSC _New Dawn,_ was currently being outfitted with the latest of communication software. Operating so deep outside of known UNSC space that they might as well go off searching for a third Ark, it was vital that they could keep transmitting and receiving, no matter the cost.

To Doctor David Ortyal, this was less of a new mission and more of an adventure. Scurrying off into deep space with everything necessary to make great science and new discoveries? What else could he ask for?

 _"Doctor Junior Ortyal, please report for verification code alpha-nine."_

A chill ran down the doctor's spine and he instinctively reached for the fringes of his lab coat, stopping just outside of what was supposed to be his own, brand-new laboratory.

When he had asked himself what else he could ask for, he hadn't fully realized the matters that he had _not_ asked for that he could ask for. He had respectfully asked lady ONI if she could, very specifically, _not_ assign him a female AI.

Lady ONI had respectfully told him to go stick his head up his behind and assigned this abomination to him.

"Please tell me I am just hearing voices," he remarked.

One of the junior scientists who walked by glanced up from his paper. "Doctor Ortyal, meet Yin. She's the _New Dawn's_ AI."

"Yes, thank you," Ortyal replied through clenched teeth. "A clarification I desperately needed."

"You're welcome, Doctor."

If the desire to flush your junior staff out the airlock was what had made Parangosky the big girl she was now, it was easy to see why she was the boss.

Doctor Ortyal slowly and deliberately crossed his wrists behind his back and stepped towards the double set of glass doors of what was going to be his new home for the coming months. "So you're the ghostly tin man that lady ONI sent to keep an me?"

The pedestal next to the door flared to life and projected the chosen avatar of this particular AI. It wasn't anything flashy or special, at least not within the sick and delirious creations that these ONI Intelligences sometimes cooked up. A humanoid frame with long hair, all shiny and yellow. Or gold, whichever fitted this thing's hat more.

" _Ghostly Artificial Intelligence,"_ said the AI. " _And I am not made out of tin, Doctor Ortyal."_

"Hah," the Doctor replied, observing the twin doors that prevented him from entering his beloved lab. There had to be a structural weakness in that glass. What was the risk of alienating the other staff by smashing his own windows before the operation could even begin? "I made you admit at being sent to keep an eye on me."

The AI cocked her head sideways. " _Never kept that a secret. Someone has to look after all the reports, files and activities, right? Also, could you not try to sabotage your own door? That'd be great."_

Ortyal, who had just attempted to simply ignore the double set of high-security locks on the doors, rolled with his eyes. "So why did they install a holographic display right outside my lab?"

" _To make our conversations easier for you. Humans generally dislike having to talk to this disembodied voice in the air. It makes them look weird to their junior staff."_

"Very funny. I don't think I will be having much conversations with…you…outside of my lab."

The AI smiled. " _I predicted that. Which is why I allowed for a complete series of holotanks to be built inside your lab."_

If there was a penalty for smashing your own windows, would there also be a penalty for smashing high-grade holo-projector technology? "Oh, good. Am I ever going to _see_ the inside of my lab this year?"

 _"That is why I asked for the verification code, silly. Please report for verification code alpha-nine."_

Ortyal spread his arms and performed a little bow. "Here I am, reporting in. Now what code do you need? The code for cyanide release in my lab? Maybe the automatic code for the airlock?"

The AI crossed her arms over her chest and sighed. Or performed the electronic equivalent of sighing. " _I already have those. Just need your personalized password for entering your lab. You do want to enter it, right?"_

Since when was a password called verification code alpha-nine? That made no sense. Had anyone else come up with it, he would have liked it. "Fine. My own personalized password, you say? What does that mean?"

" _Anything you want,"_ replied the AI.

Oh…so she was challenging him? "Anything?"

She smiled. " _Yes. It is your personal verification code. You might want to make it something special. You know, so you can remember it."_

Well, that was something he could not let slide, now could he?

Several minutes later, when Doctor Ortyal had finally finished customizing his personal entry code involving several specific bodily-stances and codewords only he knew, each one for every day of the week, he could finally witness what the UNSC's well-spent tax dollars could buy.

And it did not disappoint.

" _I don´t think that your concept of special was necessary for security,"_ said Yin.

"Never enough security," Ortyal replied, appraising the various sets of microscopes, surgical equipment and cabinets filled with chemicals. Now _this_ was a lab. "Why don't you make yourself useful and tell me how this entire mess started."

The AI appeared on the holotanks to the left in the lab. " _Just guessing here, but I don't think you mean the construction of this ship. What mess?"_

"UNSC ships don't just go missing," he replied, poking a glass vial to test its strength and sound-producing qualities. "So what's all this about the _Platernus_ and the _Wayfarer?"_

" _Well, you are now technically qualified to know, so alright then. The UNSC Platernus performed the underpowered Slipspace jump to escape Covenant forces after the fall of Aegis III, as per Cole Protocol. According the last records of the shipboard AI, it managed to limp its way to a planet that had been used as experimental grounds by the Forerunners. The Spartan-Operator-"_

"I know that. The Operator…man, that name gives me the creeps. Just going to call them new Spartans."

The AI made a sound. " _The new Spartans "_

"Actually, that sounds silly too. Why couldn't the Office give them better names than Operators? It is ridiculous. Just call them by their number."

" _Are you sure?"_

The young senior scientist nodded. "For now."

" _Okay. Zero-one-one travelled to the surface, where he presumably spent the months that went by until the UNSC managed to find his location. Then, the Scattering happened."_

Ortyal sat down in one of the science chairs and reached for one of the microscopes. "Not hearing any classified information, Yin."

" _I am getting there. Most, if not all of the Spartan Operators were onboard that battlegroup to help secure the planet and then partake in another covert operation."_

 _"_ All thirteen of them?"

" _All thirteen that we know of. When the Forerunner defense mechanisms activated, multiple Slipspace portals were activated, sending the ships to randomized locations in space."_

Ortyal activated the microscope and suddenly remembered that he didn't have anything to observe. He needed to prepare the slices himself now. "Do you know why I'm so interested in this Scattered event?"

" _Because your insatiable quest for knowledge leaves you unable to ignore a contrived event like this?"_

 _"_ Yes -no! Absolutely not! It's because of the Master Chief. You know what happened to him after the Battle of the Ark, don't you?"

The AI shrugged. " _Gee, would I know what happened to humanity's biggest hero in history? If only I had unlimited access to every single scrap of knowledge that the Office of Naval Intelligence possessed. Wait, I do!"_

"Good. Then you probably know that the Frigate he was supposed to ride out of the Ark got caught in the collapsing Slipspace portal. It portal-cut the _Dawn_ in half, leaving the other half stranded in space. Random space."

" _Uh…doc? I think you better stick to xenobiology. Parangosky has a dozen guys working on figuring out where the Master Chief went and if going to meddle with that too, your odds of survival will probably go down. A lot."_

Ortyal waved her concerns away with a flick of his wrist. "My odds of survival are none of your business. You've probably got a false positive in there as well. But if the _Wayfarer_ managed to end up somewhere in the Galaxy right where there might be extraterrestrial life, the _Forward Unto Dawn_ might have too."

" _I think the Admiral might have realized that. We never stopped searching for the Chief, doctor. Do you want my advice?"_

 _"_ No," Ortyal resolutely said.

" _Tough. Leave all of the Spartans and missing ships out of your head and focus on your job."_

This was precisely why he had said no. "Leave it to the AI to tell man not to think. Are you threatening me, Yin? Already?"

" _Hardly. I was told to make sure all of you survived this assignment. And you nosing around where you are not allowed sort of interferes with that assignment. You see, not everybody here likes you. That's thin ice."_

Man, those chemicals had not been stored away on alphabetic order. That needed to change. The file cabinets were ordered all unorderly and someone had forgotten to pick up a piece of broken glass on the ground. "Interesting. I thought figuring out clever things was my job?"

" _You_ _are the head of xenobiology for this operation. All aliens we encounter belong to you, dead or alive. And then you get to play with their dead bodies until you find out something that can be used to better kill other things."_

 _"_ Do I sense some hostility there?"

" _Nope. That's how you would describe your job, isn't it? By the way, Captain Walker wants to speak to you on the bridge."_

The doctor put away the diluted hydrochloric acid and sighed. "Captain Walker…I know that name.."

Yin appeared on the terminal to his right, with her hands on her hips. " _He was there when Admiral Parangosky assigned you your job?"_

 _"_ Hmm…wasn't he the bloke with the moustache?"

 _"I hope so. The other one was a woman."_

 _"_ Ah yes. Captain Rook. Lovely woman."

" _You insulted her and called her stupid in front of the admiralty board."_

"As I said. Lovely woman. So she wants to speak to me?"

" _No doc, the other one. Captain Walker."_

Ortyal closed the cabinet with the chemicals and vowed to organize them better when he came back. "Well then, I better not keep him waiting right?"

~0~

* * *

 **Aboard _Normandy SR-2_**

She came around the corner without warning, giving him almost no time to react at all. The tattooed woman seemed to be aiming to bump into Spartan one-one-seven, but he easily shifted his hips and twisted aside at the last moment, allowing her to pass him by without even touching her.

His sudden movement appeared to take her by surprise. She stumbled and whirled around with a scowl. "Watch where you're-"she cut herself off when she took another look at him, her face contorting in a look of anger and, more noticeably, surprise. "Shit, you're that new fuck!"

The Master Chief raised his eyebrow at her unprofessional attitude, but did not comment. Her appearance did not fit with a military vessel like the _Normandy;_ she was completely covered in tattoos and did not wear anything but some leather straps that covered her extremities. It did not fit with this ship of war, but then again, neither did the other aliens he had met just far. This human was just another member of this asymmetrical nonsense.

A split-second after the human opened her mouth, the Chief's Heads-Up Display flared with a burst of blue static and several voices broke through his internal audio systems with such force that it nearly deafened him. He gritted his teeth and ignored the sudden assault on his sense, moving onwards without saying a word to the woman.

He walked around the wall of the elevator and entered the _Normandy's_ crew quarters deck, which appeared to be the busiest deck of all. Terrific.

He knew the source of the interference. He had felt it nonstop as he had pushed into the Flood-corrupted High Charity. "Cortana," he asked as he slowly walked towards the middle of the third deck. He made sure to mute his external speakers so nobody could hear him talk. "Are you alright?"

" _I'm fine!"_ She aggressively snapped at him. Her voice had a flanging edge to it, as if there were two voices talking through each other.

She wasn't "fine". There wasn't anything "fine" about this, but he didn't want to push her. He'd let her think, for now.

The Chief scanned his environment and spotted the medical bay, the kitchen and an office. Behind him lay the sleeping quarters as well as the observation decks, but it appeared that those were not inhabited right now.

The kitchen looked busy. Two people stood behind a counter, working with a mix of ingredients and tools to prepare a meal. Several other crewmembers were sitting at the table, immersed in a conversation about the latest operation. They spoke the same language as the Commander did, though they too spoke with that odd accent.

One additional sight filled him with silent anticipation and he slowed his movements down. One of the aliens stood leaning against the wall, its arms crossed over its chest as it seemed to converse with the human preparing the food.

"It's a Turian thing," the alien nonchalantly said, glancing at the human. "There is always room for a meal, before the fight and after."

"Not just a Turian thing, Vakarian," replied the human. "Every soldier needs to get their proteins!"

The Master Chief analyzed the alien's movements and armour and took notice of the fact that it appeared unarmed. Taking it down would be an easy task. Doing it nonlethally became a viable possibility.

'Vakarian' was the first to spot the Chief approaching them and eagerly stepped away from the wall.

The Spartan froze, unsure of what the alien would do.

"Chief," it said. Its voice was filled with a form of excitement, but the Spartan could not tell what for. "I believe you and I got off on the wrong foot before."

Then, much to the Master Chief's surprise, the Turian raised its hand at him. Again.

"I'm Garrus Vakarian. Shepard and I go way back."

The Spartan stared at its extended hand, unsure of what to do. A part of him did not want to offend what would be his future ally, but he also refused to shake hands with an alien. He only had one alien that he might possibly consider a comrade in arms and he did not need another.

After a few moments of silence, the Turian coughed and lowered his hand again, before bringing it to his neck and taking a step back. "So yeah, that was a gesture meant as an…introduction and show of good fate, as the Commander puts it."

"Some folks don't need all of that, Vakarian," the human at the side replied. He looked like the chef.

The turian grunted, but did not otherwise comment. A smart move.

"So then, Chief it was? I'm Mess Sergeant Gartner. How can I help you?"

The man did not seem to care about the formalities that much. It would do. "I need food rations."

"Sure. Anything special?" the man asked with a chuckle.

"Just provisions," the Chief replied. "MRE packages and supplements."

"Right, right." Gartner placed several small packages on the table and said, "Anything now? This stuff is meant to keep soldiers going, not keep them warm."

It was exactly what the Spartan needed. Easy to take with him, easy to prepare. "Just the rations."

"Alright. No problem."

No questions asked, no odd stares. The Chief could appreciate that. He politely thanked the man and, as soon as he was back on the elevator, said, "Cortana?"

" _I'm sorry Chief…I…got distracted."_

"It's alright," he replied.

" _It's not alright, it's...Chief, I…"_

 _"_ You're still getting used. There's another AI you need to stay hidden from. So, stay focused."

" _…right. Of course. Thank you, John."_

"Anytime."

~0~

* * *

Commander Jane Shepard had just finished a conversation with Mordin regarding the nature of his work with the Salarian Special Task Group when the next problem arose.

"Commander, The Illusive Man would like to speak to you," Kelly informed Jane when she moved to check if she had new messages.

"Awesome," the Commander replied, not too enthusiastically. Maybe it was something useful. The last time had been Horizon, where they had taken the fight to the Collectors, beaten their ground forces and learned more about the nature of their enemy. Perhaps Tim had a plan.

On the other hand, the last time had been Horizon.

As soon as the Commander made her way to the Briefing/Comm room and enabled the link between her and the head of Cerberus, it became obvious that this wouldn't be another Horizon. It would be something else entirely.

"Shepard, we caught a break. I intercepted a distress call from a turian patrol. They stumbled on a Collector ship beyond the Korlus system. The turians were wiped out, but not before they crippled the Collector vessel. " He sat down on his chair and crossed his legs, as if certain that Jane would embark on this mission right away. "I need you to board that ship and get some data on the Collectors. Find us a way to get to their homeworld."

Shepard crossed her arms. This didn't feel right with her. "Don't you just love it when turian scouts take our Reaper-associated monstrosities?"

As always, Tim had a response. "Reports indicate that the hull's intact, but the core systems appear to be offline. They could be making repairs as we speak. I'm not saying it won't be dangerous, but we can't let an opportunity like this slip by."

This sounded like a massive opportunity alright. Not just for them. "So where is the turian fleet then? Won't they find that ship?"

"They will, eventually. But I intercepted the transmissions." Alright, that was impressive. "In the meantime, we're feeding them false reports. You're close enough that you can be in and out before the turians learn the truth."

Shepard nodded. "You sure this information's good?"

"Information is my weapon, Shepard. It's good."

She'd assemble a team immediately. "Guess it's time to go to work then."

"Coordinates already sent. Once you're aboard the ship, establish an uplink with EDI. She'll mine their data information regarding the Omega-4 Relay. Good luck, Shepard."

"Coordinates punched in," Joker said as the connection between Jane and Illusive Man broke, allowing the chamber to return to its normal state. "Let's go find us a Collector Ship."

The Commander nodded and immediately contacted Jack. Biotics seemed effective against the Collector troops last time and she wanted to make sure that Jack was alright after her little fallout with Miranda. The two of them just couldn't _stand_ each other and it might well have escalated had she not stepped in when she did.

Jack and Miranda were both complicated, but Jack in a different way. Hell, anyone could have turned out like she had if put through the same Cerberus-caused hell. And yes, the facility had gone rogue and Illusive Man had shut it down when he learned of the experiments done there, but still. Jack had no reason to work with that.

Well, it was time for the biotic convict to show what she could do, now that she had finally put her past behind in that big crater on Pragia.

" _Yeah?"_ Replied Jack.

"Meet me in the hangar bay in half an hour."

" _Right. Got it."_

Jane smiled. After her voyage to that testing facility in Pragia, Jack had become much…well, nicer wasn't the right way of putting it. She had become more open. More pleasant to work with.

Shepard's thoughts travelled to Grunt, but then went straight towards the Master Chief. He had never even seen a Collector, dead or alive. Now was the time for him to find out who his true enemies on this operation were. Putting him up against the Collectors would be a test for her too; he had performed beyond all expectations the last time he had been in action and she wanted to find a way to put his abilities to good use. After all, if she allowed Jack and Grunt to cut loose when the situation demanded it, she could also allow _him_ to cut loose.

So she contacted him as well. "Chief? We have another mission."

" _Copy that Commander. Standing by."_

He was already in the right place. No need to tell him to head down or anything.

With that taken care of, Jane headed straight to her quarters to gear up. Joker said he had already received the coordinates, so they should already be on their way. If everything went well, the _Normandy_ could be on-site in twenty minutes.

Some time later, as she waited for the elevator to arrive at the CIC, she went through the mission details again. The Collector ship had been disabled somewhere beyond the Korlus system…wasn't that where she had tried to recruit the Warlord, only to be given Grunt in his tank? What were the Collectors doing there?

Only one way to find out.

Joker was ready and waiting for her. The second they exited the Mass Relay, EDI detected vague signals in-system.

"We have a visual on the Collector Ship, Commander," Joker said, adjusting several of the screens to get a better view.

"Very low emissions," added EDI. "Passive infrared temperatures suggest most systems are offline. Thrusters are cold."

The vessel looked awfully threatening when put on-screen. It reminded her somewhat of the derelict they had the Chief in, but even larger. It was mostly made out of stone, resembling some sort of massive insect hive. Disconcerting.

"The thing's massive!" said Joker. "How the hell did the turians take it out?"

His thoughts mirrored Shepard's concerns. How could a patrol ship take out something as large as this? That was like the Kodiak shuttle taking out the _Normandy._

"Ladar scans do not detect any hull breaches on the side facing us. I detect no mass effect field distortions. It appears the drive core is offline."

"Rendezvous in thirty seconds Commander. Good luck."

That was Jane's cue. She headed straight towards the hangar bay, here both the Chief as Jack were geared up and waiting for her. Jack had her shotgun and her heavy pistol, but the Master Chief had something else with him. Not that anti-material sniper rifle that he had used to punch through shields, armour and skull alike, but something that looked like it was equally capable of doing so.

Jane, knowing from experience that the soldier's species utilized weapons with extreme punch to them, gestured at the unknown weapon. It looked a lot like an assault shotgun, but different. Longer, less bulky. A very dark shade of gray as well. "That a close-quarters weapon?"

The Chief nodded in response.

"Smart man.". That would work well within the confined areas of a ship.

She nodded at them and they followed her straight towards the shuttle. Shepard really hoped that Mordin's countermeasure to the seeker swarms would hold up inside of that ship too, because she had no idea how many of them would be inside. She had told the Master Chief about the Seeker Swarms and their paralytic poison, but he had not been worried. According to him, they would not hurt him.

It made her feel suspicious all over again. After all, kinetic barriers did nothing to prevent those things from nailing you and their poison seemed to work with every organic, human or otherwise, and she was sure that the Chief was not a synthetic.

Well, almost sure. She had yet to see what his head looked like without that bucket of his.

As the shuttle sped towards the disabled Collector vessel, searching for a way in, Shepard took some time to observe the already-surfacing dynamic of her current squad. It took her all of thirty seconds to figure out that Jack did not like the Chief. The woman looked like she was unsure whether the Chief would bite her or spontaneously combust. Every few seconds she would shoot him a menacing glare, before looking away to fiddle with her weapon.

Jack acted just like Miranda had. The two of them really had more in common than they were willing to admit.

Eventually, the shuttle came to a stop. Jane immediately grabbed her SMG, with Jack behind her doing the same with her shotgun. The Chief brandished his rifle and glanced at the Commander, who nodded. "Move out."

The three of them jumped out, weapons raised.

"Never saw a ship like this before," remarked Jack.

Shepard scanned her surroundings, making sure that they would not be ambushed. The place felt wrong. The ceiling was covered with strange, bulb-like lights -at least she hoped those were lights- while the walls and even ceiling had patches or cold rock woven through them. This really was an insect hive.

Alright, she had to admit it. Even _she_ felt disturbed by this place.

EDI said something about scans, but Shepard was too busy checking out the corners. Every turn they made, they could stumble into one of those Scions.

"Stay sharp," she called.

They advanced into the hallway, but didn't get very far before EDI's familiar voice came through the comm unit again. " _Shepard, I have compared the ship's EM signature to known Collector profiles. It is the vessel you encountered on horizon."_

That comment disturbed the Commander more than it should have. "Guess the saying is true; taking AA to the face really is unhealthy."

"Maybe we'll find the missing people. If they're still alive," said Jack.

Goodie.

The Chief stayed silent, even as they made their way deeper into the hallways and encountered a series of pods lying on the ground.

"The same containers as on Horizon," Jack quietly said. The sight seemed to disturb her. "Only these are empty."

The Master Chief stopped next to one of the pods and knelt down next to it, placing a large, gauntleted hand against its side. He dug his fingers deep into its frame and then, with one violent movement, tore the cover off.

Shepard took a peek at its contents. "Huh…empty too."

"They're planning to take more," he declared.

Jack raised her shotgun again. "Then we better make sure they won't finish the job."

Deeper they pressed into the ship, barely managing to make it ten meters before they stumbled across another sight of horror. A large pile of bodies, shamelessly and unceremoniously dumped in a hallway. Stowed away to be forgotten.

"Why would the Collectors just leave a pile of bodies lying around?" Jack asked.

Jane stared at the pile of bodies, vaguely remembering that the Batarians had done something similar during the assault on Mindoir. "They're free now."

"We should keep moving," said the Chief.

The three of them cleared another hallway, went down a ramp and stumbled across yet another hallway, all without encountering any resistance. Where was everybody? Shouldn't they have been found by now?

The Commander noticed a series of consoles and, after making sure that there was no hostile force anywhere, approached them.

It proved to be an…insightful experience.

"That's a Collector!" Jack exclaimed upon seeing the body of the insect-like alien, contained within the open pod in front of the console. "Are you seeing this? These bastards committed experiments on their own?"

Shepard scowled. "Hey ehm…EDI? I got some data for you. It's a thing. Give it a look, pretty please?"

 _"Data received, analyzing. The Collectors were running baseline genetic comparisons between their species and humanity."_

So they shared their human fetish with the Reapers. "Did they find anything?"

 _"These are only preliminary reports, but they reveal something remarkable. A quad-strand genetic structure, identical to traces collected from ancient ruins. Only one race is known to have this structure: the Protheans."_

Well shit. The Collectors were Protheans. That put a disturbing spin on history. "So this means we'll have to rewrite our history books."

EDI then explained that these things weren't Protheans anymore, but Shepard did not need her to explain that. The Reapers didn't wipe out the Protheans. They turned them into monsters, enslaved even in death.

For one awful moment, Shepard realized that her new enemy was race of mere slaves, doomed to aiding their destroyers in helping other races meet the same fate, and that she had a duty to help them. But that was not possible. She couldn't save everyone. "They're working for the Reapers now…and we have to stop them."

"No shit. I don't want to be turned into some fucking insect monster either! We fight those things!"

Whatever the Protheans had once been, they were gone now. She would put the poor things out of their misery soon. "Let's get moving before the Collectors arrive to salvage this ship."

And with that, the team pushed deeper into the ship. The Commander stopped to scan a piece of technology, before reaching a large, open room, with sight on a large portion of the vessel´s ceiling.

"Commander," said the Master Chief. "Up on the ceiling. More pods."

Hundreds of them.

"Shit. How many have people in them?" Jack loudly said.

"Too many," Shepard grimly replied.

" _Commander. I detect no signs of life in these pods. It is probable that the victims inside died when the ship lost primary power."_

At this point, Shepard nearly wished that the Collectors would show themselves. They continued their way towards some central form of hub, yet there was absolutely no opposition.

Her feelings of unease grew stronger with each step she took and when Joker contacted her to tell her that EDI had compared the profile of this ship with that of the one that had destroyed the original _Normandy_ , and that the two were an exact match.

"Commander, this feels like a trap." The Master Chief perfectly summed up Jane's suspicions. But what choice did they have?

They finally cleared the cramped hallways and stumbled into what had to be the hollow inside of the ship. It stretched on for hundreds of meters in each direction, spacious enough to contain multiple _Normandy´s._ And the ceiling was absolutely covered with the pods.

"They couldn't fill those pods even if they took every human in the Terminus System," Jack said with a voice that was nearly trembling with anger.

"Earth is in danger," the Chief replied.

"Not if we stop them."

Eventually they reached what had to be a control panel. Shepard immediately initialized a link between EDI and the Collector ship, allowing the AI to mine the ship for data.

Then the whole ship started shaking and the platform they were standing on pulsated oddly.

 _"Commander!"_

"Still here. Everything okay on your end?"

" _Major power surge Commander! EDI managed to divert it to noncritical systems, but-"_

EDI cut him off. " _There is no doubt about this, Shepard. This was a trap."_

As if it had been waiting for her to say that, the platform that they were standing on suddenly shifted and then rose up in the air. "Yeah, I about figured that."

" _Hold on Commander, EDI says there´s something in the system!"_

"Commander, hostiles approaching our position," declared the Master Chief.

Shepard whipped out her SMG. Another platform approached their position. It was built with the same general shape as the one as they stood on, except it was inhabited by the large, vivacious form of a Scion.

The Commander sighed. She _hated_ those things. "Master Chief, mind the jump."

"Mind the jump?" Said Jack. "What the fuck's that supposed to-? "

The second that the platform came close enough for the Chief, he jumped. With several thundering strides he launched himself across the three meters that separated their platform from the Scions and unslung his other weapon. The Scion opened fire with its siege cannon and a series of blue, exploding pulses sprang across the floor, each one powerful enough to bite through kinetic barriers with no problem at all.

Jack seemed aghast. "Are you shitting me?"

The Chief easily rolled out of the way and then opened fire. The shot echoed through the massive interior of the ship and still Shepard thought it was loud.

Whatever it fired, it tore a massive hole into the Scion's chest. The Chief cocked his weapon and moved closer-

"Chief," Shepard yelled. "Watch out! That thing explodes!"

True enough, the moment the Chief came close enough, the Scion reared back and unleashed a powerful, biotic shockwave. The soldier quickly backpedaled to avoid the worst of the attack, before suddenly jumping right on top of the Scion. Its knees wobbled dangerously and the Chief smashed his fist into the blueish sack on its back, which Shepard knew contained its synthetic organs. She had personally ripped that thing open back on Horizon, when she had taken the fight to a form just like this.

Still on the thing's back, the Chief took aim with his weapon and blasted the Scion's vulnerable insides again and again, sending three blasts of thunder straight into its weak spot.

The husk gave a low, rumbling cry and died.

"Holy shit!" Said Jack. "Where did you _find_ this guy?"

There were more platforms incoming and Shepard quickly moved to intercept them as their platform approached. With her sidearm, she picked off two Collectors with well-placed shots and Jack annihilated the third, along with a part of the platform itself. Her biotics were unstable, but very powerful.

"Chief, be careful."

Another platform with another Scion. Shepard enveloped herself in a biotic field to soak up its fire and then blasted it with a warp field, ripping apart the chitinous plates that protected its front. It was standing dangerously close on the edge, and a fall would send it plunging to its death

"Jack, cover me!" She said, hopping over her cover and making her way towards the Scion. Jack created a cascade of biotic shockwaves and knocked three Collectors on the ground, allowing Shepard to easily pick them off with well-placed shots to their oversized heads.

The Scion raised its cannon and fired off another salvo, but Jane slid out of its ways with a biotic dash and opened fire with her SMG at pointblank range, before jumping backwards to avoid the shockwave that was meant to counter tactics like this.

Predictable.

Harbinger assumed direct control with a Collector drone at her flank, but it could not withstand the firepower that the Chief and Jack poured into its glowing form, which practically begged them to turn it into a shooting gallery.

Shepard blasted the Scion's legs with a heavy warp field and then collided with it, ignoring the squishy contact between her armour and its dead, cybernetic-enhanced body.

The Scion attempted to fight back, but Shepard focused her biotic energy into her right arm and lashed out with an open-palm strike, transferring all of her force directly into its body. The strike was powerful enough to crack the floor underneath her and the Scion got knocked backwards, where its legs had no ground to stand on. It disappeared over the edge and plummeted towards its death.

Another platform was incoming and Shepard nodded at Jack, who smirked.

"I can take you all!" She cried, before using her own biotics to destroy all the cover that the Collectors had on their platform. The Chief then used his powerful rifle to send a massive bullet their each one of their oversized heads, killing them before Harbinger could direct this situation personally.

" _I have regained control of the platform, Shepard_ ," EDI said when the Commander finally managed to reach the console again.

"Ah, good."

 _"I always work at maximum efficiency. Commander, I have managed to gain minimal access in the Collector's data bases. I have also found the turian distress call that served as the lure for this trap. The Collectors were the source. It is unusual."_

 _"_ That makes sense," replied Jane. "Of course the Collectors would want to lure their victims in."

However, when EDI explained that the used signal was an obviously encrypted and corrupted message and that the Illusive Man would have never fallen for it, that assurance quickly turned into indignity. Especially when she then heard that the Illusive Man had written a part of the code that EDI had used to detect the faulty message.

"I knew Cerberus would screw me over again!" Yelled Jack.

 _"He knew it was a trap?"_ Said Joker. _"Why would he send us into a trap?"_

Shepard shook her head. "We don't have time to point fingers. We'll confront him when we get out of here in one piece."

" _Ehm…Commander? We got a second problem. The Collector ship is powering up! You need to get out of there before their weapons get online. I am not losing another Normandy!"_

After a brief pause, the Commander promptly broke into a sprint and made her way down a ramp, followed closely by her teammates. She sure as hell was not losing the _Normandy_ either!

" _Around the corner, take the door on your left."_

 _"_ Got it," Shepard called, waving towards the left set of doors as they slid open-

-only to reveal another Scion, standing in the middle of the hallway and raisings its massive arm-mounted cannon.

Shepard was going too fast. Could her shields take the brunt of its hits at such close quarters? Where would she go afterwards, there wasn't any cover-

The Master Chief moved before anyone else. Jane was still processing that she had nearly ran face-first into a Scion when he seemed to launch himself towards it, faster than humanly possible. The sheer speed with which he moved was incredible. Shepard never got the chance to open fire, as he covered the half a dozen meters in a heartbeat and collided with the fused Husk with such immense strength that he nearly sheared its other arm off.

The Chief rammed his armored gauntlet deep into the sack of synthetic organs on the Scions back and swung itself on the monster´s back, carrying himself with enough force to easily spin it around and slam it into the ground.

" _Correction. The door to the right. Something is attempting to fend off my control. Commander, hostile forces are en-route to your location."_

The doors creaked.

 _"_ Chief!" Cried Jane. Two Collectors moved in behind the green-clad soldier and Shepard opened fire on them, puncturing their bodies with high-velocity rounds and putting them down.

The soldier jumped backwards to avoid the immense shockwave that the Scion released, scorching the floor with its biotic pulse. He then immediately closed in on the husk, grabbed it by its 'head' and smashed it violently against the ground.

The doors suddenly shot together, closing again.

Shepard reached out a biotic field, attempting to prevent the doors from closing fully. The power that lay behind the mechanism was immense! She could barely slow it down. "Chief, move!"

The massive soldier brought his own force to bear and smashed the Scion's head in with his boot. It did not kill the living siege weapon however, as it still attempted to smash the Chief with its now barely-functioning arm cannon.

Behind the Master Chief, more Collector forces began gathering.

"Chief, move damnit!" Cried Jane. She couldn't keep the doors open; whatever power source the Collectors used to power their doors, it overwhelmed her biotic prowess and violently smashed the doors together. There was nothing she could do.

It was almost as if something was toying with them.

"EDI, the door!"

" _Negative. I am unable-"_

"Get to it young lady!"

"- _unable to circumvent the door mechanics. I suggest the Master Chief move to alternate rendezvous locations."_

Several rounds impacted on the door and Jane immediately whirled around and cast a biotic warp-field at the offending collector, eating through its protective barriers and forcing it back to cover. Jack took a hold of it with her own biotics and pulled it out of cover again, unloading two shots into its oversized head.

Harbinger wouldn't be assuming that one.

"Chief!" Shepard yelled, slamming her fist against the thick, metal door that now separated her from her squad member. "Can you hear me?"

Behind her, Jack uttered a loud cry of anger, soon followed by the distinctive sound of a biotic explosion. A few moments after that, her communications array picked up his signal.

" _Commander, the door is sealed. Regrouping is not possible."_

His voice was surprisingly-calm for someone who had just been locked away inside of a Collector vessel all on his own.

Shepard slammed her fist against the wall in frustration. Soon, the familiar feeling of helplessness and guilt struck her like a punch to the gut and she closed her eyes for a few seconds.

 _Not again._

 _"_ Chief?"

" _Wait one."_ There was a short burst of fire on his end before he continued. " _Go ahead Commander."_

"We're unable to get to you. Can you find a way to regroup?"

Another burst of fire. " _Copy that. Moving to alternate location."_

Such calmness in the face of imminent abandonment. Even Shepard didn't know what she would do if she had been locked away from her team, in the middle of a pissed-off army of Collectors. Would she lose a part of her team again?

On his _second_ mission?

Jack grabbed a hold of her hand and jerked at her arm. "Commander!" She shouted. "Chief can take care of himself. We need to get the hell out of here!"

Shepard pushed her thoughts of doubt and guilt far away and nodded. They hadn't failed yet and the Chief was one tough SOB. They´d make it through.

Jack and her soon came into another encounter, on level terrain with no height advantages. Shepard slammed into cover and shot the Collector Drones that came flying towards her out of the air. Her SMG tore large holes in their insect-like bodies and their corpses plummeted to the ground.

" _Commander, I am unable to reroute the Master Chief to your position. He has refused me access to his suit."_

 _What?_ Why would the Chief refuse EDI access? If it meant saving his life, what did it matter if an AI scurried around his interface or not? "Keep trying. Jack, kill that Harbinger!"

" _It is peculiar. He says he does not require my assistance."_

Jack popped Harbinger's shields like a bubble and Shepard proceeded to annihilate most of its upper body with a biotic-charged kick to his face. "Just find him a route!"

The next area proved to be a real fight. The first wave of Collectors landed basically in their faces, but Jane noticed a lot of cover to take advantage of. There even was a ramp to her left, which led to an elevated platform.

She quickly pulled Jack behind a wall that looked like it was shaped like a hexagon. "Chief, can you hear me?"

There was a brief pause, during which Jane killed two Collectors and enabled Jack to kill a third. Then, she heard his familiar, gravelly voice. _"Go ahead Commander."_

"Master Chief, I need you to allow EDI to find you a new route! If she can interface with your suit-"

" _Negative, Commander. That will not be possible."_

"Don't give me that! Open your bucket and let the AI in!"

" _Commander, we are working on the alternate route. Stand by."_

Jane, teeming with anger, took her frustration out on a Collector that came too close, smashing its head in with a biotic-laced hook to his face. "Stay safe," she muttered.

Shepard and Jack fought their way to the top of the ramp, leaving behind the hexagon-shaped piece of cover. Harbinger took control of another Collector Drone, but Jack was quickly to catch it in a biotic field and fling it across the room, eliminating that particular threat, if only temporary.

Upon reaching the highest point in the room, Jane immediately dove for cover and raised her SMG. She sighted in on the nearest Collector and pulled the trigger, sending a long steam of bullets downrange. A new group of hostiles approached their position from the left; a group of husks, but red instead of blue.

Shepard didn't trust that one bit and kept them at distance, throwing them off the platform with a flick of her wrist.

They exploded upon death, violently.

Great. Exploding zombies. Who came _up_ with these ideas?

After Shepard had mopped up the rest of the hostiles, she pocketed their thermal clips and made her way to the other side of the room. She nodded at Jack and entered the next room.

" _Commander, I have opened the door on the other end of the room. However, I am still unable to direct the Master Chief towards you."_

"Keep working EDI," Shepard replied. "Get his green behind to the _Normandy_ ASAP!"

Shepard scanned the next room with her SMG carefully, because there were no immediate hostiles to be seen. It had to be some sort of trap and she did _not_ have the patience to deal with another trap after what the last one had cost her.

Jack took cover behind the narrow wall at the top of an elevation, looking down at the rest of the room.

There was nothing. No Collectors, no Husks, nothing.

Knowing that time was not on her side, Shepard made her way towards the other end of the room, but that door closed right as she attempted to make her way through the passage. She quickly hopped backwards and contacted the _Normandy._ "EDI?"

" _Take the door to your right, Commander."_

Great. The longer way around the obstacle.

Jack followed the Commander through another hallway. They stopped at the entrance of the room when she heard the familiar and hated buzzing of Collector wings. "Jack, get ready."

"Got it Commander!"

Immediately taking cover, the Commander watched as the first wave of Collectors arrived. She whipped out her Carnifex and nailed two of the unprotected drones in the head. Jack grazed one with her shotgun, but that one quickly became a Harbinger, forcing Shepard to apply more firepower to its head.

The firefight quickly escalated when a group of the red abominations arrived. The humanoids quickly shambled towards their direction, but Jack caught sight of them and was quick to obliterate them with a biotic shockwave.

Their bodies gorily exploded.

Shepard pushed deeper into the room, blasting every Collector she got in her sights. She started to feel the exhaustion from biotic overuse, but she ignored that. The few monsters that managed to get close enough to attack her from her sides were quickly annihilated with biotic-enhanced martial arts.

" _Commander,"_ the Chief suddenly said. " _Enemy presence is increasing. I am searching for a way around."_

"Chief, can you get to the Normandy? Do you know which way to take?" Jane quickly replied. Jack covered her by biotically tearing a Collector in half as it moved to flank them. She then started gunning down the large group of Husks that started appearing from a long hallway on the other end of the room.

" _Negative Commander. I need to engage radio silence._

 _"_ Chief, I'm not losing you! Find a route and get to us before this ship blasts the _Normandy_ to pieces!"

" _Copy that."_

Shepard jumped over a small wall and headed towards the long hallway up ahead. It was crawling with Husks and their red counterparts were climbing up too.

But the Shuttle was right there! If the Chief could hurry it up, they could get clear now!

" _Commander,"_ EDI then said, " _The Collector vessel is powering up its weapons. There will not be enough time to clear it unless we embark soon."_

 _"_ Stow that EDI! I am not leaving the Chief behind!"

" _Affirmative, Commander. However, I must advise you that our mission is more important than the life of one soldier."_

"Thank you, EDI!" Shepard didn't need an AI to tell her that it was necessary to sacrifice lives for the mission. She had learned that lesson the hard way and she wasn't about to take a reminder. "Jack, get to the shuttle! Kill those Husks!"

Jack laughed. "Gladly."

Shepard contacted the Chief again. Radio silence be damned; he was going to get them killed if he couldn't get a move on. "Master Chief, where are you? We need to go!"

There was a frustratingly-long delay before the soldier replied. " _The Collector ship is powering up its systems."_

How did he even know that? "Which is why you need to hurry the flying fuck up!"

Another pause, during which she could hear a sustained burst of gunfire, followed by an explosion. " _Commander Shepard, you should depart now."_

 _What?_ "Don't be stupid. Find your way to us and-"

There was another explosion, followed by an ear-splitting screech. Shepard's blood ran cold; that sounded like the same creature she had encountered on Horizon! The one that Garrus had dubbed the Praetorian!

" _There is no time, Shepard. The Master Chief understands this. We must leave now."_

"No!" Shepard sharply told EDI. "We're not leaving! I'm not losing another one!"

"Shepard," yelled Jack. "It's gonna get real busy here real soon! I'm not staying in this shithole and neither are you!"

Jane gritted her teeth. Deep inside, she already knew what the right thing to do was. Of course she could never risk the _Normandy_ and the mission for the life of one teammate. She couldn't lie to herself and she wasn't going to deny that, either. "Master Chief…I am sorry. We need to evac out of here, or the entire operation dies with us."

His voice was so calm. Even now, facing immediate abandonment and probable death, his voice was without emotions and completely to-the-point. " _Of course Commander. Good luck."_

Feeling somewhat reassured by his graceful attitude, Jane boarded the shuttle. "It was an honor serving with you. Chief."

" _I will see you again, Commander."_

With that last, puzzling remark left ambiguously in the air, the shuttle doors closed and the Kodiak took off.

" _You did the right thing, Commander,"_ Joker softly told her as the shuttle sped towards the _Normandy. "You heard the big guy; he understood."_

Jane didn't say anything. She took her helmet off and set it down beside her. She didn't want to hear justifications or arguments. As the Commanding officer, it was up to her to complete the mission, whatever the cost. Even if it meant sacrificing the lives of her own people.

The chains of command.

Feeling that someone was staring at her. Jane looked up and glared at Jack for a second, after which Jack quickly looked away.

The Illusive Man had better have a good reason for knowingly sending them into this trap. Maybe then, he would escape unharmed. The Collectors had better _hope_ that she would direct her attention to Cerberus. Because, if the Illusive Man had valid reasons, the Collectors would be facing the full brunt of her wrath.

And there would be nowhere for them to hide.

 _~0~_

* * *

 ** _Installation 00_**

 ** _Moments after premature activation of Installation 04B_**

 _Don´t…ever let her go…_

As the world around him fell apart, metal shearing like it was out of damn rice paper due to explosions so powerful that they looked blue, Avery felt strangely content. He was done, in all ways a man _could_ be done. He had seen the beginning of the Human-Covenant war and now he was pretty sure he had witnessed the end of it.

Truth had died, together with Miranda. There was nothing left for him to live for now.

The Chief would do it. He would escape this wretched hellhole and _win_. And it would be worth it.

The Master Chief always won.

Avery took a deep breath, but was unable to due to his burned lungs and ruined chest cavity. Spark…damn lightbulb had finally gone nuts. Strangely fitting…

With the ground underneath him breaking lose and falling away, it would probably be over soon anyway.

Gravity took a hold of his broken body, and Johnson fell. Fell for what felt like ages, never feeling the respite of the impact. The embrace of death. It went on and on, far too long to be considered real.

Annoyed, he opened his eyes. The sensation of weightlessness was far from comforting, and he would like to spent his last aware moments in peace, and not with those alien zombie freaks crawling over his body.

Another reason. To finally be rid of all the memories.

So what was taking him so long?

" _Once more, I contort myself in all manners to find a manner of redemption. One Reclaimer leaves, so that the other might be saved."_

Avery felt the soft touch of something solid underneath him and quietly groaned. Was he hearing voices now? Already?

There was a flash if the brightest and warmest light that he had ever felt in his life. And in that moment, all ceased to be. And it was finally silent, except for one final comment, that felt like it echoed through his head rather than through the exploding interior of the firing Halo.

" _I wonder."_

~0~

* * *

[ **SECURITY ACCESS GRANTED. UNSC TECHNOLOGICAL INFORMATION CODEX UNLOCKED]**

 **SUBJECT: M45 SHOTGUN SERIES**

 _The M90's immense power, ease of use, and reduced capacity for puncturing the hulls of spacecraft over many other UNSC weapon systems with standard ammunition are greatly appreciated. The M90 is often employed in urban conditions where the tight spaces are conducive to the shotgun's wide spray for defensive purposes and CQC._

 _However, after various theses reported the increasing ineffectiveness against Covenant armour systems, it was decided that an upgrade was needed. Thus the M45 Tactical Shotgun Series was reintroduced. An upgrade from the previous M45 and M90 models, the M45D fires M296 SC 8-gauge magnum shells with a magnetorheological dampening system to reduce recoil, making it more comfortable to use in the battlefield. Further versions of the M45 include a semi-automatic and a fully-automatic versions._

 _The_ _Soellkraft 8-Gauge Shell is most commonly utilized with this weapon system, however, the 45Dt can hold incendiary rounds, rifle slugs, flechettes, and a variety of other forms of ammunition that have proven to be most effective against Covenant ground forces._

 _~0~_


	9. Chapter 9: Machine

Chapter 9, in which Shepard reunites with an old friend and Cortana and the Chief struggle to survive aboard the Collector Cruiser.

~0~

* * *

 **Krogan DMZ**

 **Aralakh System**

 **SSV Normandy**

Within turian culture, there was the notion of spirits. They did not physically interfere with the living, but they were the embodiment of certain concepts. There were no forces of good or forces of evil, for example, but there were forces of determination, spirits of war and essences of peace.

When Garrus Vakarian had been ready to die at Omega, exhausted and wounded after the many days of nonstop fighting, one such spirit had come for him. A magnificent force of war that rushed through the filthy corners of the slumps and swept aside all that dared to resist it. It was on that day that Jehanne Shepard had returned from the dead to save him once more and on that day, Garrus had understood that the turian spirit of peace and the human deities called 'angels' had to be the same things.

He did not consider himself a religious turian, but seeing the Commander appear before him like that…it had done something to him. It had definitely changed his perception of her. Before, she had been his closest friend. But now…well, it was difficult. She sure as hell wasn't a spirit, but to him, she remained something more than a mere human.

Perhaps that was why he felt so much for her. He had stood by her side as she ordered Kaidan to a certain death, watched the tears stream down her face as he told her not to worry about him.

And while Garrus couldn't see her right now -though he certainly could hear her, even through the thick doors of the Communications room- he could easily picture her face. Perhaps covered in tears, but no longer of grief. The Illusive Man had screwed them over and that was a very dangerous thing to do with Jehanne. She was forgiving, more so than Garrus could ever picture himself being, but even she had her limits.

As Vakarian stood with his back against the door of the Comm room, he wondered how the Illusive Man would talk his way out of this. The mission on that Collector ship hadn't gone exactly _right_. And because of that, she had lost another teammate. Another friend. One she hadn't even known for that long, certainly not as long as Kaidan. But that was just the way Jehanne lived her life. Making friends out of everyone with a nearly-supernatural charisma, even with the stoic and alien soldier from the wreckage.

Five minutes after having started telling the Illusive Man where to stuff it, Shepard finally seemed to calm down. Either she had managed to pull the Cerberus leader through the Quantum Entanglement Communications system to personally kick his ass, or the deceitful human had managed to talk his way out of her fury for a brief moment.

Garrus straightened up when the door suddenly slit open and revealed a flustered and tired-looking Jehanne.

"Shepard," Garrus softly spoke. He rarely called her by her first name, as he never managed to pronounce it right. "I uhh…so what did our mutual friend have to say?"

"Timmie said he needed the Collectors to think they were going to win," she quietly told him "Telling us would have tipped them off and the plan wouldn't have worked."

Garrus scowled. "That it? He risked your lives for better intel?"

He did not tell her that, in the turian Hierarchy, such decisions were generally approved of. He wasn't in the turian Hierarchy now.

Jehanne looked away. She didn't meet his eyes. "EDI found out that the Reapers and Collectors use some sort of advanced IFF system to get through the Omega Relay. If we can get such an IFF for ourselves, we can target the Collector base."

This wasn't Shepard. Garrus made sure to leave the mental state of his friend be and replied to the issue she rose. "Alright. How do we get that IFF?"

Shepard walked past him towards the armory. "We raid a Reaper."

At that, Garrus could not contain his surprise. A Reaper? Big, Sovereign-class laser-shooting monstrosities? "I haven't finished calibrating our guns yet, Shepard."

"Cerberus found a derelict," Shepard retorted without bothering to look at him over her shoulder. "When we built our team, we're going in."

As part of the original crew of the Normandy, Garrus knew that his Commander would have been absolutely giddy at the thought of raiding a dead Reaper. After all, she loved achieving victories with her crew. The spirit of war. To see her as indifferent as this was…disconcerting, to say the least. "Commander!'

This time, she did look at him. Well, she glared at him. It was progress. "It wasn't worth it, was it? Losing the Chief?"

Jehanne didn't answer him.

~0~

* * *

" _Run Chief! Move to the exit!"_

Explosions. Gunfire. The familiar whining of his fully depleted energy shielding. All was background noise to the Master Chief as he dashed through the interior of the room, avoiding the blue lasers that carved through the metal floor and buffeted him with fragments of molten metal. He jumped over a Collector when it suddenly started levitating a few inches above the floor, covered in yellow-orange lines and symbols. He then rolled over the floor to dodge the worst concussive waves of an explosion and caught a small burst of fire in his left flank, which the heavy plates of his MJOLNIR armor only barely managed to absorb.

The large door was almost sealed, but the Spartan managed to slide underneath it and emerge safely on the other end. Dozens of rounds impacted on the door and the floor underneath it, but the rapid rattle of the guns faded away when the bulkhead fully sealed itself.

" _That was close. Way too close. Are you hurt?"_

The Master Chief ran a hand across the thick gash that ran across the outer layer that protected his stomach. "I'm fine."

" _I'm relieved. Take it easy; that thing shouldn't be able to cut through the door."_

The damage to his suit wasn't that extensive and it felt a lot worse than it was, but the Chief couldn't help but feel somewhat cynical at that comment. "Shouldn't? It cut through the MJOLNIR as well."

" _Point taken.."_

The Master Chief took a few moments to reload his weapons, which he had fully depleted during the firefight. The two dozen or so Collectors had been manageable, until that _thing_ had shown up. A giant, floating bug with enough firepower to obliterate entire walls of Collector alloys. Its shields had been tough enough to soak up an entire magazine of Assault Rifle fire and when they had finally been depleted, supposedly clearing him for an attempt to damage it through close-quarter combat, some sort of energy wave had exploded outwards from within the thing's core, knocking the Spartan straight off and nearly depleting his own battered shields in the process.

He wasn't sure when the husk-form had managed to scratch his stomach plates. Somewhere after it had attempted to crush his head with a razor-sharp appendage, he supposed.

" _Shepard´s records indicated some Collector unit serving as a tank. Garrus Vakarian dubbed it the Praetorian. It took her and her squad about ten minutes of concentrated effort to take it out on the colony Horizon."_

The Chief could figure out why. The husk was immensely well-protected and armed to its teeth. Or collective human skulls, seeing as it was made up out of human corpses. Getting in close to the thing had _not_ worked out at all. "Why couldn't I hurt it? Its shields were down."

" _It must have used several mass effect fields to overdrive its shielding, rendering it temporarily invulnerable. I calculated at least twenty-seven points of origin for its shield-system."_

"Is that a lot?"

" _The average Alliance soldier has five to seven field emitters."_

The Chief grabbed his shotgun and scanned the hallway for more hostiles. "So, a lot."

Cortana sighed. " _Let's just say that the only way Shepard would manage to kill hers quicker was by using a Cain."_

Right. But he didn't have the luxury of a mini-nuke launcher right now. "Time for plan B?"

" _That depends. Is it the Spartan plan B of, when in doubt, jump? Or is it the Spartan plan B of, when in doubt, blow it up?"_

"The latter. That thing should still be vulnerable to explosions."

There was a burst of blue static across his screen, paired with a sharp audio malfunction. It sounded like a chorus of female voices, speaking in a language he didn't know. It sounded disturbingly like the Gravemind's tongue. " _And_ you _should still be vulnerable to a lack of oxygen. Your suit's supply is almost depleted, even with the emergency EVA port filters operating at 120 percent. The colonists' pods have tubes running through them to deliver oxygen-rich air, keeping them alive. I have tracked several points of origin for those tubes."_

That meant no plan B then. John could work with that. He didn't want to admit it to Cortana, but he could use a clear goal. On their own, these Collectors weren't much of a threat, but their husks…they reminded him too much of the Flood. The Scions were one thing, but that Praetorian had really pushed him far. Sustained firepower would have taken it out, but with at least five Collector fireteams running around to keep him pinned down, such a task would be too daunting.

At any rate, they didn't use oxygen for their metabolism. Reaper tech must take care of providing the cells with an energetic compound. It had to be really potent if that were the case.

With no other choice, the Spartan started moving. If the hive-like structure was anything to go by, this ship had to be filled to capacity with Collector troops.

And filled with human captives. "We should try to free those colonists. The Collectors will kill them, or worse."

Cortana didn't reply. She had to be busy with something. Had she noticed the interface errors?

He continued nonetheless. "Try to locate the escape pods. We should bring them there one batch after another."

The blue static warped again, changing to a vision of contorting figures. They only lasted for a split-second, together with the audio malfunctions, but it still made him wonder what was going on. This could not be chalked up to hardware errors. " _Chief, can you find me an access point?"_

The Spartan raised an eyebrow at being brushed off like that, but he complied. What looked like computer mainframes were positioned every few set of chambers and though their access ports had to be completely alien, he only needed to bring Cortana's chip close for it to work.

He did not know the specifics of how she did what she did, but she had the ability to 'jump' from one access point to the other. It was an ability that had saved them a lot of time during time-sensitive operations.

The Master Chief carefully removed his partner's data chip and felt the now-familiar sensation of a stream of cold rush out of his head. Feeling her leave was, though familiar, not at all comforting.

Cortana's avatar appeared atop her 'home' and she crossed her arms. " _This won't work. Insert me in their systems so I can open the door. I will remain in contact."_

The Spartan did as she instructed him, bringing the data chip close to the access port and letting the micro-fabricating system on its edge do its work. Getting into alien systems meant being able to _access_ those alien systems on a hardware-level first. The AI chip had, as the techs called it, a micro-crystal rearrangement-field, which basically meant that it could shift its own form to connect with most systems. Be it a Covenant nav-computer or a Forerunner console on a Halo, the system would find a way to make it work.

He hadn't really had the time to read up on the precise workings however. He was just glad it worked with these Collector systems as well.

" _Alright,"_ Cortana said as soon as the Chief placed her chip back in its rightful place. He would pick her up again when they were done. " _I'm in. These systems are…different. Very different. Nothing like the Covenant's, really. More like…"_

She trailed off. Was the influx of new information confusing her? Distracting? "Can you locate the lifeboats?"

" _There are no lifeboats."_

"Fighters?"

" _VI-controlled drones."_

No fighters either. Very well. "Can you take control of the ship's systems? Space the Collectors?"

" _Not without killing the abductees as well."_

Then this would last longer than he had expected. "We'll take manual control. Set a course to one of the human colonies."

 _"There is no oxygen for those humans, John."_ She called him by his name again. That meant bad news. " _And this system is more complex than you think. It…I think I understand now."_

Understand what? "Cortana…"

" _John, there are more than ten-thousand Collector forms on this vessel. The humans won't stand a chance-"_

He thought it odd that she would refer to the abductees as that.

 _"-and you won't last forever with those odds. We…I don't think we can rescue these people."_

The Chief knew that he did not have enough ammo to deal with all these things, but there were other ways. Destroying parts of the ship…no, that would lead to human casualties as well. Pressure could fall away too.

He could steal their equipment, even arm the abductees-

-but they lacked training, and there was no guarantee they could use the Collector weapons.

In the back of his mind, he already knew what he had to do. What the Spartan inside of him _should_ do. But the part of him that had seen Avery die, the part of him that grown weary of the needless deaths of many millions of people, just couldn't accept that. It made for a confusing and frustrating conflict within his priorities.

"We can't let these aliens take their victims," the Chief quietly said. His reservations against doing what had to be done faded away even as he said that, but he needed to be sure. He needed confirmation.

" _We cannot and will not let this vessel escape. First, I need you to follow the navigation points. Refill your suit's air supply."_

A loud noise behind him immediately shifted the super-soldier's gears and he spun around, shotgun at the ready.

Something had smashed itself against the door, putting a sizeable dent in it. A really noticeable one. The Chief was not about to test his strength against that thing again with his air supply so dangerously low. He'd kill that particular Husk when he was ready, not sooner.

So with that in mind, the Spartan moved out. It felt like he was back on the _Truth and Reconciliation_ again for a certain part, though _High Charity_ was more like it. Every door that Cortana opened for him led to him a room filled with hostiles. Every piece of cover held another freak ready to pounce him and every now and then, the telepathic leader of the horde of monstrosities personally addressed him.

" _We will be the Harbinger of your destruction,"_ the now-possessed Collector drone chanted with that booming, heavy voice that the Chief had come to associate trouble. He ducked underneath one of its pulsating biotic attacks and blasted another drone with his shotgun, after which he lashed out with his leg and kicked one of the Husks away as it charged for him.

The synthetically-altered corpse seemed to come apart under the force of his blow, smashing against a nearby wall in pieces. Whatever these Reapers did to humans to turn them into these machine-horrors, it did not make them much sturdier.

" _Your Guardians are gone,"_ The glowing drone continued. The magma-like lines that ran across its body brightened and it unleashed another series of what had to be biotic attacks. " _Your kind stands alone."_

The Master Chief had no clue what this Harbinger was talking about and neither did he care. He aimed down his sights and pulled the trigger of his Assault Rifle, ripping through the Collector's shields and shredding its armour-

-the counter rapidly dropped to zero and the magazine ran dry. The Chief immediately lowered his weapon and charged the wounded drone, slamming the butt of his rifle against its large head, which snapped back under the force and audibly cracked.

" _Kill one and one hundred will replace it."_

The form disintegrated, having been completely burned out by the odd possession. True to its word, more Collector drones flew in around the lone Spartan, taking up superior positions with good aim.

The Chief quickly snatched his last magazine from his hip and inserted it into his rifle. Cortana immediately placed a waypoint in his HUD and then designated the targets around him with blue highlights, showing him where they were hiding. " _Chief, you are going to run out of air real soon. I suggest you move, now!"_

He didn't need to hear that twice. As the Collectors rained down fire from above, he turned around and double-timed it to the heavy set of doors that Cortana had opened-

-only to run into another Scion with its arm-cannon raised.

Time slowed down as the Master Chief instinctively threw himself at the massive husk, foregoing the waste of time that opening fire would mean. It seemed to have been made by fusing several human bodies together around one massive cannon, which it could use to devastating effect. He could not effort to let this creature fire its weapon in close quarters.

With his armoured gauntlet, the Spartan smashed the Scion's head in. The metal frame of his fist easily tore through the machine-augmented skull and turned the leftovers of its brain into a fine paste. The Scion attempted to retaliate by swinging its lesser arm at him and grabbing his faceplate, but its movements were slow. Suspended underwater, never arriving at their destination.

The Chief took a large step to the side and tore the Scion's arm off. He immediately followed up with five punches to its center of mass to destabilize it and a heavy kick to one of the humps on its back to damage its organs.

The collective hunk of flesh and metal fell over backwards and the Chief jumped on top of it, resting hundreds of kilograms of MJOLNIR and soldier on what had to be its chest cavity, and drove his fist straight through the gaping hole that his previous attacks had caused.

He found himself panting from exertion, unable to get enough air into his lungs to stave off the ache in his chest.

" _Chief, your air supply is running very low! If you move now, I can redirect the oxygen flow from the holding cells into the rest of the room."_

"That will kill the abductees."

Cortana's reply went together with another flash of interference, green this time. " _Don't QUESTION me!"_

Now more than ever did John want to stop and call out Cortana on this problem of hers, but he knew that he had no time left. He had to bury his reservations about this topic, if only for a fleeting moment.

So he waited until the AI had cut off the air supply from the inhabitants of those Collector holding cells, sentencing them to a certain death which they had not deserved. If John had not been certain of his plight with Commander Shepard before, he was now.

As Cortana flooded the room with the precious oxygen that would allow him to go on for another hour and a half, the Master Chief addressed the problem that he should have addressed from the beginning. "Tell me what's wrong."

She didn't immediately reply to him. When the Chief moved towards the door on the other side of the room, where he hoped there would be less enemies waiting for him, she seemed to think she could redirect that question. _"There… should be a way to get to this ship's reactor if we cross its cargo hold."_

He knew her better than that. "Cortana…talk to me. If something is wrong…you should tell me."

 _"Chief, I…it asked, and I answered. I tried to fight it, but it wouldn't let me."_

High Charity. "The Gravemind?"

" _Do you know what a Gravemind does to AI's? What it can do?"_

"I don't-"

" _No AI was a match for it, ever. Even the most brilliant Forerunner AI's are swayed and brought low by its logic. It's like a plague, infecting everything it touches. And once you're infected…"_

 _"_ You're not infected," John instantly retorted.

" _Chief…"_

"You're not a Forerunner AI. You're human."

" _I…do you really think that?"_

"Yes. You were created from a human brain. Cortana, you've helped me destroy the Gravemind and the Flood. You're currently making sure I won't choke to death in this ship. A corrupted AI wouldn't do that."

 _"Oh John, it's not that simple."_

John knew that it couldn't be as simple as just stating it, but right now, he had no reason to believe that Cortana was a liability. She was an ally. In fact, she was much more than that. She was just as much family as the other Spartans were. "Even if you are infected, we can find a way to fix it. The Gravemind won't take you."

Cortana laughed. A hollow sound, devoid of humor. " _And how do you know that?"_

The Master Chief unslung his shotgun and said, "Because I won't let it."

A simple promise like that couldn't have been enough to silence Cortana, but somehow it did. She quietly opened the door ahead of him and placed a waypoint at the other end of the hallway that the opened door revealed.

Content and reassured, the Master Chief pressed on.

~0~

* * *

 **Krogan DMZ**

 **Aralakh System**

 **SSV Normandy**

 _It wasn't worth it, was it?_

Questions like those have plagued Jane for a long time now. It was easy to hold a grudge against herself in light of what she had done, the people who had died for her…but in reality, even that was a luxury she could not afford. She had to look out for the wellbeing of all under her command, while fighting an enemy that had conquered empires far greater than what the Citadel had going on.

And her team stood alone in that.

It was their duty to stand between the innocent and the monsters. To fight for the lost.

Jenkins had known that. Kaidan had known that. The Chief had known that. It was part of the course for a soldier to lay down their lives for the mission.

And it wasn't called a suicide mission for nothing.

Jane shook her head. She had to get above this; she was going to take a squad to Tuchanka damnit! The krogan homeworld had local wildlife that _ate_ the big guys for breakfast. Staying sharp was the name of the game and she was not about to lose anyone else.

Krogan…yeah, knowing her luck, her team would be facing off against a group of those lumbering mountains. She would need some heavy firepower on Tuchanka. Maybe she could find something in the armory.

When she got there, she found that Jacob was still working, gathering rifles and sorting through the types of ammunition they had plucked from the derelict. It had really been an impressive armament for half a ship.

"Hello Commander," said Jacob. "Sorry about the Chief. He was a hell of a soldier."

Shepard ignored that remark. She deliberately avoided Jacob's eyes and asked, "Did we get the new SMG model yet?"

The armory officer shook his head. Perhaps he picked up on the subtle sign of changing the subject completely, because he didn't pursue that particular one. "Sorry Commander. We have yet to resupply."

Great. Then Mess Sergeant Gardner had some explaining to do. "You got anything else for me I can use? The Tempest doesn't pack enough punch for me."

Jacob glanced at the weapons locker, where several of the Chief's weapons had been stored for future use. "Hmm…I think I do. Take a look at this."

He then grabbed one of the smaller weapons and handed it to Jane, who hesitantly took it. At first, she felt like it wasn't right to use someone's equipment after their death, but the Chief was a soldier. It would be an insult to leave his weapons to gather dust instead of using them for their original purpose.

The weapon looked like a fully automatic SMG, but it was different from the ones she knew. It had a polymer handle and very noticeable buttstock, which looked like it could be collapsed. It had a folding fore-grip as well and while it was outfitted with iron sights, it didn't seem very hard to mount a scope on it. The body itself looked like titanium, which meant that this thing too could double as a club.

A handle was located to the right side of the SMG, used to chamber the first round. All in all, the weapon was about two feet long and didn't weigh a lot. Its munition couldn't be very impressive, but these weapons had a knock for being surprisingly powerful.

"What can you tell me about this thing?" She asked.

Jacob took the weapon from her and released the magazine by pressing a button. "It carries sixty rounds per mag, caseless munition. That means higher capacity and less weight. I found two types of ammo for this thing; normal magazines and high explosive armor piercing magazines. Both seem to have a knack for ripping through barriers, shields and armor relatively easy, though I haven't tested it on heavier armor models yet."

Then she would perform that particular experiment for him. "I'm convinced."

But mister Taylor wasn't finished yet. "This weapon can also be outfitted with several other modifications. I found several pieces of gear that seem to fit with these hardpoints. Flashlights, suppressors, various scopes."

"I'm not looking for a stealth weapon on the krogan homeworld, Jacob," Jane dryly commented. "You had me with the armor piercing ammo."

"Of course, Commander."

With her new SMG strapped to her waist, Jane made her way to the CIC. Right now, she had to focus on Mordin and Grunt. Mordin recently learned that the Blood Pack mercenaries on Tuchanka had captured his former student, Maelon. Maelon was a salarian, which on itself was already a problem with the krogan, but he had also helped Mordin with his work on the genophage project. It was a disaster waiting to happen, so it only made sense that Mordin was so worked up about this.

And Grunt…Jane had no clue what was wrong with him. He was pure krogan -people should be in awe- but that seemed to carry a problem on its own. He might be seriously ill, so he had requested a trip to tuchanka to get a diagnosis from one of those amazing krogan doctors.

Grunt was…special. He was a big, baby krogan. The Normandy's first giant baby krogan. So either he had some sort of juvenile disorder, or he had caught an infection on one of the missions she had taken him.

Jane had always wondered how that krogan regeneration even worked. A big, bleeding flesh wound that closed itself up with all the pathogens and other things still sealed inside? Bad stuff. And Grunt had taken some fire during his missions, so his regeneration might have gone wrong there.

She wasn't going to risk anything on Tuchanka, though. There was no saying who would be in charge there and after what had happened the last time, she would be taking extra firepower with her. She would take Garrus, Kasumi and Samara with her too. If things went right, she could split up the teams and tackle these two missions at the same time. Garrus was an excellent combatant and a capable leader, too.

Though he would never admit that to himself. Not after what had happened to him on Omega. He had not shared the complete story with her yet, and she could understand that, but she did know that it was deeply personal. A betrayal from someone he had never expected a betrayal from.

With quiet resignation, Shepard remembered that the loss of an entire team was much worse than the death of one soldier. Yet Garrus had shown her nothing but his loyalty and friendship throughout this operation. There would be time for grief later.

She just felt so tired.

The Commander returned to the Combat Information Centre and approached Joker, who was just bringing them into the krogan DMZ. Everybody was geared up and ready for action,

"There she is," said Joker. "Tuchanka. The krogan homeworld, where even the plants want to eat your guts. The Council Demilitarization Enforcement Mission has granted us access by the way."

"I would hate to overstay our krogan-welcome," Jane sarcastically replied. "Who is in charge down there?"

Joker turned around in his chair with such force that EDI had to be behind it. Shepard had seen turrets rotate slower. His nickname didn't do justice to the enormous grin that his face suddenly carried. "Three guesses."

Jane, not really in the mood for games, decided to play along nonetheless. Her problems weren't his problems and she was really fond of Joker. Too fond to let her sour mood spoil his. "Some biotic warlord?"

"Close. Second guess."

Why was he so happy? "A female?"

"Hah, if only. Third guess."

Jane, out of options, replied, "Alright, I'm out. Who's in charge down there?"

Joker's eyes were barely able to contain his joy at this new. He must have heard this very recently, too. "Urdnot Wrex."

Jane broke records getting to the dropship that day.

~0~

* * *

The Master Chief watched the double set of doors open several feet, enough for him to go through, before Cortana closed them again. He had run out of ammo a while ago, spending his last magazine to fight his way out of a long hallway without any cover. The Collectors had weapons that proved a serious threat to his MJOLNIR. At full shield strength, they were no problem, but they seemed to be very good at downing them when they were already damaged, as he had caught several glancing hits of some sort of beam weapon that had easily ripped through his weakened shields. It was a good thing that Cortana could repair the MJOLNIR after missions, because he had more than a few gashes in its outer shell now.

He was just glad that _he_ wasn't full of holes as well.

" _Chief, I am tracking multiple hostiles. Marking them now. I recommend you take this one quietly. Start with the one on the ledge."_ The link that she had with the MJOLNIR was stable enough to allow for immediate conversations even though she was currently neck-deep in the Collector systems.

The Master Chief had always admired how effective AI's could multitask.

 _"_ I know how to handle stealth operations, Cortana," he dryly remarked, making his way towards one of the larger rock outcroppings. This was another one of those tricky rooms filled with cover, pillars and piles of rock. Cortana had spotted at least nine Collector forms through his HUD and, in the time it took him to blink, tagged all of them in a blue outline.

" _Oh really? Should I let your frontal lobe run the programs to predict their movements based on existing patterns and track them outside your field of view?"_

The Chief jumped, grabbed a protruding piece of black rock and immediately pulled himself up, ending up behind the Collector with that beam weapon. It had a good vantage position; only a few locations in this particular room remained hidden from its view. "If you want to. We used to play games like these, without AI assistance."

" _Let me guess? Capture the flag without being seen?"_ Cortana replied, working her magic to track several hostiles through the enormous pile of rock. They moved erratically, but that was to be expected. She likely needed more observatory data to perfect this particular strategy.

"On occasion." The Chief snaked his arm around the thin neck of the Collector, tightened his grip and then gave a jerk, easily ripping the bones that made up its frail neck apart. Its long, tapered head jerked oddly when it died, leading the Chief to wonder if he should have ripped it off instead. He wasn't sure if breaking the necks of these monstrosities actually killed them.

The Chief glanced at the fallen Collector and then crushed its skull for good measure. He was not risking the reworked Prothean getting up and blowing his cover. He had learnt that lesson in Halo.

" _And I take it that the ones protecting the flag weren't fully armed humanoid insects stuffed with cybernetics?"_

"No," the Chief calmly said, hunkering down on the rock and taking a good look at what was to be his next target. "Just fully armed marines."

" _So it was true after all. Halsey didn't do things half, did she?"_

The Master Chief thought he detected anger in her voice and he rapidly switched the subject. "Mendez didn't do things half either. What do you make of these Collector weapons?"

" _Hmm…from what I gathered, it uses the same mechanics as the human weapons in this universe, those micro-scaled accelerators. However, when you cracked that weapon open a while back, it used an organic structure with biotic potential as a core. It is incompatible with the heat sinks."_

"Affirmative." One of the Collectors wandered down below the vantage point, carefully scanning its surroundings with its rifle. These things weren't stupid; the death of the overwatcher had put them on alert regardless.

But they didn't take into regard that Spartans could come from all directions, like from above. The Chief silently leapt off the rock and landed with both of his boots on the alien's head. Its chitinous exoskeleton didn't protect its skull from the five-hundred kilograms of MJOLNIR that landed on top of it, subsequently splattering its contents all across the floor.

" _I know they can't find the bodies,"_ Cortana said when the Chief picked up its limp body and threw into one of those yellow cracks at the side of the hallway, " _But what about the pool of blood and pieces of tissue?"_

The Chief glanced down at the pool of gore and shrugged. "It won't point them to my direction."

 _"Then you better scrub those boots of yours before leaping anywhere."_

As it turned out, there was no need to worry about the potential trail of blood that the super-soldier left in his wake, because the Collectors became aware of his presence regardless. One of the Collectors became the next source for Harbinger's ego and started patrolling the hallways, having foregone effective speed for a menacing gait. " _Your time has come, human. You cannot deceive all."_

The Spartan was not intimidated by the Harbinger. He took a deep breath of the newly-cycled oxygen that Cortana had resupplied his suit with and allowed his training to kick in. He made no sound as he leapt from the wall, collided with the possessed Collector and smashed it to the ground. He slammed his boot against its torso and shattered the sturdy armour that the form had been granted by Harbinger, before crushing its skull with his fist.

The Spartan immediately left the scene and climbed up a metal platform, evading the three armed Collectors that came rushing towards their fallen leader. They briefly observed the scorch mark on the floor and were about to fan out when the Chief jumped from his cover and landed in their midst, crouching low to swipe the legs out from underneath the form with the energy weapon.

The Collector was knocked in the air by the force that broke its legs, after which the Chief delivered a quick and crushing blow to its head with his elbow, slamming the mangled body to the ground. His left leg snapped out and broke the spine of the second Collector, sending it stumbling and allowing the Chief to easily destroy its brain with a well-placed hook.

Remaining as the only armed drone in that region, the third Collector didn't even manage to get off a shot before the Chief dove underneath its arm, shattered what to be the elbow joint with a simple arm-lock and brought its head down against his knee, hard.

More Collectors came rushing at him from around the corners and the Spartan kicked off. Traversing the five or more meters in a heartbeat, he took down the first drone with a spinning kick. He snatched its rifle from its twitching arms and aimed it at its patriots, downing two of them with precision headshots before the return fire splashed across his shields.

The Master Chief saw one Collector levitate in the air to be converted into the next Harbinger drone and intercepted it before it could finish. He lashed out with his leg and sent the drone flying off into the wall with enough force to shatter every piece of tech in its body, whereupon he grabbed its head and smashed it against the metal plating for good measure.

One less Harbinger to worry about. What was that thing, anyway? Shepard had told him that it was the Collector General, personally taking over the hivemind to direct matters on the battlefield.

" _Nice job!"_ said Cortana. " _Shows that thing not to run its mouth. Analyzing…the navigational computers indicate this vessel is heading for a different planet. I can't access its exact location, but it is located in the section called the Terminus Systems"_

"A different planet? Is it colonized?" Asked the Chief. He shook some of the insectoid blood off his gauntlets and picked up one of the fallen rifles. It had proven powerful enough.

" _I'm not sure…but seeing as these are the Collectors and the Terminus Systems aren't exactly kept safe…"_

The Terminus Systems belonged to the section of space that the humans had colonized while under duress. Slavers and pirates were frequent visitors, as the Council had no jurisdiction there. _"_ We need to stop them before they strike another colony."

 _"We're not even sure it's a human colony, Chief."_

The Master Chief shook his head. "That is irrelevant. The Collectors should be stopped, at all fronts."

Cortana, realizing that he was being exceptionally stubborn about this, dropped her protests. " _Well, obviously, we can't destroy this ship in the middle of nowhere. Without any way to actually leave it, we might be short on options."_

The Master Chief walked through another opened door, contemplating said options. Without any means to fall back from the Collector ship, he could either ride it to a civilized world and find a way off there, or wait until the ship attacked another target. Both would require time he didn't have and lives he would not see lost. That left extravehicular action, which he really was not looking forward to. Repeat his actions from the Forerunner Keyship and jump. He could take that. Probably.

"I'm thinking we should jump," the Chief told his partner as he spotted another small army of Collectors. Another Praetorian was floating amidst their forces, too.

" _From space?"_

"It'll work. I've done it before."

 _"Yes, I read the reports. Not a very original idea."_

"How are you going to disable this ship then?"

" _Why, find its power core and overload it, causing a massive destruction powerful enough to destroy this vessel and its crew…ah. Point taken."_

The Spartan moved into position, taking aim at the Collector furthest away.

" _I take it you mean to actually land on something, right? In that case, we should wait until the Collector vessel lands on another planet which, I wager, is where their next target comes into play."_

 _"_ The colony. If you can detonate this ship's core, there should be enough time to evacuate."

" _And with evacuate, you really mean jump from atmosphere and hope for a soft landing? Do you have any ideas that don't involve a high probability of us dying in the process?"_

The Chief didn't answer her, as he was busy shooting one of Collectors in the head to aggravate the entire group.

" _Some things never change…let me see if I can't help out."_

Cortana's last remark was lost to the Chief as he sprinted towards cover, the platform he had been standing off being completely annihilated by a Praetorian's heavy firepower. He leapt over its edge, took aim at a trio of Collectors that was rapidly flying his way and shot one of them out of the air. He landed on the solid rock floor, rolled with his momentum and leapt out of the way as the Praetorian unloaded another surge of firepower his way. His muscles burned with the exertion and he could feel his heart beating at a swift pace to keep up, but he felt oddly at peace. Perhaps somewhat weary, even. Every part of the galaxy seemed to contain enemies to mankind; monsters that were hell-bent on preying on the innocent.

And even here, he would stand in their way.

There was something else, too. Something he couldn't describe further than the feeling of his veins, burning hot.

As the Spartan moved his way deeper into the room, avoiding scorching hails of metal and dishing out death in every direction, time seemed to simultaneously move in slow-motion and a rapid pace. Reflexes superhumanly fast threw his shoulder back and a white-hot projectile slid past him, impacting harmlessly on a pillar he had long left behind him.

He leapt, and a flying Collector smashed into him, seeking to grapple him long enough for the Praetorian to vaporize him. The Spartan had other thoughts and, still in mid-air, drove his gauntlet through the Collector's chest and then threw it at one of the drones attempting to gun him down with that beam weapon. The two bodies slammed to the ground together and the Spartan ducked low to avoid two sweeping flares of blue light that melted through metal and rock alike.

The Praetorian was a platform of human corpses bristling with firepower. A force of destruction born out of death and defilement, just like the Flood.

Exactly like the Flood.

The burning in his veins worsened and the Chief had to stop himself from leaping at the floating abomination. Instead, he fired the Collector rifle until it ran dry, discarded it and ripped a fresh one from the clawing arms of another Collector form. A new Harbinger arose in the middle of the room, standing atop another metal platform, but the Chief paid it no mind. He took one of the few remaining frag grenades he had left and readied it, a new strategy already forming in his mind.

Throughout the firefight, the Praetorian had shown no signs of an augmented ability to process information. Nothing to suggest it had reflexes that could match even the most average soldier. As such, it needed time to bring those indestructible barriers up. Time that the Chief could use if he himself timed it perfectly.

Another of the Collectors opened fire on the Spartan, blasting his chest with another beam weapon. It didn't get to fire more than one burst before its target took two thundering steps and appeared in front of it, after which it found itself with a broken spine and a shattered skull.

The Spartan moved throughout the room, firing dry every weapon he could find. When he finally picked up the beam weapon, he used it to boil a hole through the Praetorian's lower armour.

The abomination, in turn, battered him with all the firepower it possessed. It forced the Chief to constantly seek cover, as the other Collector forces were using it as an artillery platform, trying to keep him pinned.

But like any Spartan, John wasn't nearly as dangerous on the defensive as he was on the offensive. When he struck, he struck like lightning, straying from the thunder. He leapt at the Praetorian as time slowed to a crawl, while his senses seemed to grow ever sharper. The gap in the husk's armour barely resisted his fist when the slammed down the grenade, minus its pin, into its depths.

The Master Chief pushed himself away from the floating insult to human lives that was the Praetorian and then watched it explode from the inside out, showering its surroundings with pieces of cybernetic, dried-up flesh and shards of armour.

Gore covered his MJOLNIR, but he did not mind. This time, it felt right

~0~

* * *

 **Terminus Systems.**

 **Human Colony designation: New Canton.**

 **Local time: 15:49**

The little girl watched the other children run around the small patch of grass, kicking at a small red ball. As far as she got the game, the first boy to kick it against the metal pole in the center of the grass field won. When they started, they had asked her to play with them, but because the doctor said her left leg was bad, she had told them no.

It was sad, really. She wanted to play with them, but her parents had said that doctors were always right and that you had to listen to doctors. So, she would be a good girl and watch the others play. It wasn't as fun, but-

"Alice! Where are you?"

The voice of her mother shook her out of her thoughts and she missed one of the boys winning the game. "I'm here, mommy!"

Some moments later, her mother emerged from the treeline, looking flustered. Why did she look so worried? She hadn't been gone that long. "Alice, come on. Your father is worried about you!"

Alice pouted. "But mom! I wasn't even playing!"

Her mother reached down and grabbed her hand. Hard. Not painful, but it still scared her somewhat. "That's not -I mean, that's very good of you. But you know your dad, he's always worried. Let's go home, alright?"

The little girl sighed and told her friends goodbye. If daddy wanted her to come home, there wasn't anything else she could do but to go home. She did wonder what she had done wrong; after all, why would her mother and father be worried if she hadn't been playing?

Her mom was walking very fast and Alice had difficulty keeping up. For every step her mom took, she had to take two. "Mommy! What's wrong? Did something bad happen?"

Her words seemed to shake her mother up, because she suddenly stopped and looked down at Alice. "No honey, it´s just…you know how sometimes ships come and go and that daddy has to look which ones they are?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, daddy thinks we should go home now. Just to be sure."

Alice didn't understand why she couldn't keep playing with her friends, but her mother sound very worried and she didn't want to make her feel worse.

And it wasn't so bad, having to walk back to her home. New Canton was a beautiful world and walking past the bright flowers and huge trees always made her feel just like home. The buildings were small, there were very few soldiers and lots of nice people. Nothing ever happened here.

During the trip back home, Alice glanced up at the sky and saw something weird. A bright light that streaked across the sky, a flash of the brightest green she had ever seen in her life. It was so pretty and bright that she couldn't stop staring-

The light disappeared behind a hill and the whole world exploded. The ground shook, Alice fell to the ground and started screaming. The trees wobbled dangerously and several of them even fell to the ground, collapsing in large piles of groaning wood and fallen leaves.

"Alice!" Her mother yelled. "Alice, are you hurt?"

"Mommy!" Alice cried, her face wet with tears. "I'm scared!"

"I'm here, child." Her mother grabbed her hand and lifted her from. "Don't think about the bomb, just run!"

Bomb? What was a bomb? Was that what the light had been? Alice didn't know what any of this was supposed to be! New Canton was a quiet little world where nothing ever happened, so what was going on?

As her mother took her through the forest by her hand, the little girl caught more shapes in the sky. Large blots of various shapes that seemed to be coming closer than the light. They were heading towards the city, where the important buildings stood! Luckily everybody lived in houses in the forests, but the mall was in the city too!

A lot of people worked there, someone had to tell them!

The journey back to their house at the edge of the forest was long and tiring, but Alice felt too scared to feel tired. Her legs were trembling and her palm was sweating, but she didn't let go of her mother's hand even when she nearly stumbled over something small and hard.

She only stopped when she saw her house, which didn't look right. Something very large and very dark stood not too far from her house, with a large opening. The thing was as large as their house was, but there didn't seem to be anybody there. What was happening? Was this an alien, the thing that her classmates were always talking about? People who looked different yet spoke their language? If so, why was her mother so scared? Weren't aliens friends?

"Alice," her mother whispered, kneeling down in front of her. She had tears too. Was she scared? "Alice…mommy loves you very much. You need to stay here and don't let anyone see you, do you understand?"

She really didn't. "Like hide and seek? Mommy? Why do I need to hide? Are there bad people?"

"Yes…there might be very bad people. Mommy needs to find daddy. Promise her to stay hidden. Can you do that?"

Of course Alice could stay hidden! She was very good at hide and seek, but only when they were playing games. This wasn't a game. Who would be seeking her? "Is daddy alright?"

Loud sounds came from the house, together with shouts and screams. Mommy hastily looked over her shoulder and said, "Mommy needs to help daddy. Alice...don't show yourself, promise me."

"Okay-"

"No, I need to hear you say it. Promise."

Alice nodded. "I promise mommy."

Her mother tried to smile, but only her lower face smiled. Her eyes didn't join with the smile, because they were too sad. "Mommy loves you very much."

And with those last words, her mother ran towards the house, where Alice could now see that the front door had been opened before. That was weird, because they lived a few minutes away from the city and nobody was supposed to visit them today. Had daddy left the door open? Had the aliens opened the door?

Alice slowly started counting, praying that things would go quiet again. They didn't. She hadn't even reached twenty when more loud sounds came from her house, with more screams. One of the windows broke and somebody fell down, all the way from the top floor.

Thinking that her daddy had fallen out of the window, Alice couldn't stay hidden anymore and burst from her hiding spot. She ran towards the fallen body, hoping that she would not recognize its face. This was wrong, all wrong!

When the girl reached the fallen body, she immediately grabbed it by its waist and gave a desperate tug. It stirred and then groaned, but it did not sound like a lady. It sounded like a man.

"D-dad?" Alice mumbled nonetheless, as her young mind couldn't quite process that she was in fact shaking the body of an alien. How could she, when she had never seen an alien in her young life before? "Talk to me! Is that you?"

The body suddenly pushed itself up, leaking small trickles of red. It wasn't her dad; it wasn't even a man! This person had to be an alien, it had all sorts of weird bumps on its flat face and instead of a nose, it had a triangle with ridges. It also had four eyes, two big ones in the middle and two smaller ones above them.

The alien's eyes frightened Alice, not because there were so many of them -she didn't even know which eye to look at- but because they were so black. Where was the white? Shouldn't eyes be white too?

The alien growled and thrusted his arm at her, roughly pushing her to the ground. Pieces of glass stuck out of its body and its arms were leaking red stuff.

Blood, she realized.

It then started shouting at her, before it grabbed her by her arm and tried to pull her back up.

"No!" Alice screamed, scared out of her mind. She pulled and struggled and screamed just like her mother had told her to do when strangers grabbed her and when the terrifying alien grabbed her by her neck, she sank her teeth into its hand, deep.

The alien screamed and roughly jerked his hand back, allowing Alice to scramble back. For a split-second she hesitated; should she run into the forest to escape, or flee into her house to get her parents?

The choice was made for her when one of the walls from her house blew apart, sending large pieces of wood and stone everywhere. Alice could see her father, struggling with one of those alien monsters!

"Alice!" He shouted. He threw the alien against the wall, but was unable to stop another one, who leapt at him from behind and started beating him with something large. "Run!" He screamed something else, but Alice couldn't understand what it was. "The forest! Run!"

Alice didn't need to hear that twice. Before the alien could realize what was going on, Alice turned around and sprinted into the forest.

~0~

* * *

John found himself in a difficult position. He was onboard a ship with potentially thousands of civilian lives that all depended on his actions. Civilians, though confusing, frustrating and at times completely nonsensical, he would fight to the death for. And now, Cortana and him were plotting an operation where they would all die. Where success seemed to _hinge_ on all of them dying. Innocent men, women and even children, all of whom had been torn form their daily lives by alien hostiles, all of whom would be killed not by said hostiles, but by him.

What did that make him? What did that make of the operation? He thought he had accepted the loss, but now, as he rampaged through the Collector vessel in search of their power core, he was starting to realize that yes, he was in fact going to end the lives of thousands of innocent humans. Humans he had sworn to protect -humans he had been _made for_ to protect. Had he failed? Or was this another margin of victory?

And what did that mean for Cortana, who had been designed with the notion of rightly sacrificing him for the mission? Who didn't seem to care that her plan would end with the deaths of these people? Did it not confuse her, that the mission that would see their continued existence -their reason for existing- would fly against their reason for existing?

The Master Chief did not know. He postponed the moral issue of the choice by engaging and neutralizing dozens of Collector groups, constantly backing up and taking cover, constantly leaping and sprinting to avoid their fire, always staying on the move. He fired their weapons until they were dry, discarded them and acquired new ones from their fallen troops until those too would run empty. The process was, to him, nearly autonomous, and he spent most of those long conflicts under the thrall of his training, watching the world through grey colors and ever-warping streams of time.

But he could not keep avoiding the goal of this mission. Soon, Cortana found the power core and their plans were set in motion.

" _Chief, I found the ship's Mass Effect core. It is based on the lower decks, near the front. There is no possibility of overloading it from a distance; you will need to manually destroy it."_

"There are no Warthogs aboard this ship, I presume?" The Master Chief replied, gunning down a group of Husks.

" _Correct. Once the core is sufficiently damaged, I will take over the systems and give its destruction an extra boost. The detonation will then destabilize key parts of the ship, rupturing the superstructure enough that it will not be able to withstand atmospheric insertion, let alone the gravitational forces."_

The Chief shattered the spine of an attacking Husk and then punched its head it, sending its corpse skidding over the ground, broken and decapitated. "Meaning?"

" _Once we destroy that Mass Effect core, the ship will fall apart when it enters atmosphere."_

"The colony."

" _They will try to abduct their citizens as well. That is our window of opportunity. "_

That meant they had a very small window of opportunity before escaping. He could work with that.

The Master Chief pressed on, determined to put a stop to this ship before it could claim any more lives. Damaging its superstructure seemed like a difficult thing to do, as its metallic beams seemed to run everywhere throughout the ship. But he didn't know the quality of their construction, and all of this hollow space would only help this ship go up like a long series of firecrackers. He had seen it happen to UNSC and Covenant ships alike.

What kept the UNSC occupied? The _Dawn_ hadn't been found yet, because it had ended up outside the Orion arm. The decades of fire and death that had been the Human-Covenant war had transpired in a small fraction of the galaxy, small and insignificant. A whole civilization had been built beyond humanity and the Covenant, spanning the width of the galaxy. How had they not picked up on mankind's plight? How had they failed to notice the entire Orion arm, where mankind had been dying by the billions? Even without Mass Relays, signals could be picked up and transmissions could be heard.

The only logical explanation for that was, as Cortana had proposed a while back, that they had somehow ended up in a different dimension. The other theory held no ground and was not supported by evidence either. The answer was not to be found in him having spent a prolonged tome in cryo-sleep. The year was 2186 and mankind was working together with aliens, and lots of them.

The Master Chief banished those thoughts, as well as his hesitations about the lives of the abductees. He had a mission to complete.

Cortana opened another room for him and once more, the Chief found himself underneath that massive circular room with the millions of pods hanging from the ceiling. As Shepard's team had so aptly put it, they were meant for the citizens of Earth. Yet another reason to stop them.

" _Chief!"_ Cortana suddenly said, sounding alarmed. " _You're not going to like this! Hostile platforms inbound, dozens of them!"_

The Master Chief climbed atop one of the black, metal platforms and looked around. The same platforms that EDI had taken over during their raid on this vessel were now being piloted by Collector forces, coming from all directions. He counted fifty-three of them, with at least four Collector drones per platform and twenty-one Scions in addition. They were determined to stop him.

" _You might want to take cover. I'm taking us directly to the core-entrance, but it will take time. There's something in the system."_

The Collectors were organic lifeforms fused with cybernetics. The Reapers, as far as Shepard's knowledge went, were a race of hyper-advanced machines who had hunted the Protheans to extinction. If the Collectors were truly their slaves, it would only make sense for the Reapers to possess and incredibly-advanced system of Artificial Intelligence. In her current state, Cortana wouldn't be capable of beating something like that in her current state. "Is it a hostile AI? Can I do something?"

Cortana's reply coincided with the Collector forces opening fire and hundreds of rounds slammed into his platform, forcing the Chief to duck behind the protruding plates of metal. " _Chief, unless you happen to trip over its storage device or matrix, you wouldn't do much good. Besides; battles between AI's last micro-seconds. You do your thing and I'll do mine."_

The Chief could work with that. He leant out of his cover and took a few potshots at the enemy forces. For a Spartan, even potshots were lethal, but one rifle did nothing to lessen the sheer volume of rounds that the Collectors were pouring downrange. They filled the air, whittled down his cover and impacted on every visible inch of his armor that they could see.

"Cortana," the Chief said, crouching down even lower then one of the projectiles slammed against the back of his head, further depleting his shields. Soon, he would start taking hits. "Can you speed this thing up?"

" _Negative. But there's something else I can do. Watch out!"_

The Chief looked up just in time to see one of the platforms crash into his. The creaking metal frame wobbled dangerously underneath the sudden stress and the Chief did not hesitate to leap at the other one, where two Collectors with beam weapons were taking up positions. The gunfire from the dozens of other platforms did not cease and the Chief felt several rounds rip through his shields and impact on his flank. He gritted his teeth and tackled the first Collector, ripping the weapon from its arms and then slamming his boot against its chest, sending it flying off into the depths below. The second one didn't fare any better, as the Spartan broke the bones in one of its arms and then threw the drone over his hip, whereupon it rolled off the platform and went the same route as its partner had.

" _Chief, jump, now!"_

A waypoint appeared to his right and the Master Chief immediately did as instructed, ducking low to avoid more fire and then leaping off the edge. He fell several meters before he slammed into the frame of yet another platform, which Cortana had narrowly managed to bring up in time.

Grabbing his new weapon, the Spartan knelt down next to a thick hunk of metal and started picking off the other Collectors with beam weapons. His shields were fully depleted but slowly started to recharge again. That encounter had been too close, his escape too narrow.

"How much longer until this ship reaches the colony?" said the Chief.

Cortana's reply came with one of those bursts of static and screams that he came to associate with her illness. " _Stop distracting me!"_ she screeched at him, before a worse burst of static cut her off and the Cortana he knew managed to overcome herself. " _I'm sorry…I'm -we have t-twenty m-minutes before we make atmosphere."_

According to their own nav stations. The Master Chief nodded and noticed another series of platforms floating his way, unoccupied and faster than the one the Collector forces had now nearly shot to pieces. "Is that you?"

" _Y-y-y-y-yes!"_ She replied, though her voice seemed to…glitch. It fixed itself soon, but the distortion sounded disturbing on its own. " _Get on! They will ferry you straight towards the core!"_

The Chief immediately jumped upright and rushed towards the closest platform, several meters below and away. As he leapt towards its frame, the Collectors managed to get in close and several Scions opened fire at the same time, obliterating his previous platform.

 _Too late,_ thought the Chief. His boots skidded over the smooth surface of the new platform, barely touching its surface as he leapt for the next one. There were seven of those unoccupied platforms that Cortana had managed to control and she was moving them in perfect synchrony to support him. His reflexes went into overdrive as he moved from platform to platform, enhancing his perception of time. His reaction speed was keeping him alive and allowed him to execute movements that would otherwise be doomed to failure, as their complexity and precision pushed his dexterity to its limits. He ducked and weaved, jumping in erratic patterns and in one occasion risked a plummet into the depths of the ship to avoid a crossfire that would have ripped through his MJOLNIR with ease.

But soon, he reached the other side of the cavernous room and he could reap the benefits of his exploits. Cortana directed him towards the massive set of doors he had to pass through and as she did, the Master Chief jumped off the platform, spun in midair and emptied his beam weapon into the ranks of the Collectors that were still chasing after him. At the last moment, he tucked his arms in and let his momentum do the rest, flipping heads over heels and narrowly sticking the landing.

" _Move, John!"_ Cortana implored him. " _Hurry, the core!"_

The super-soldier broke into a flat sprint and rushed towards the set of doors, which had been opened up far enough to allow him to pass through. The AI then closed them behind him and the Spartan came to a stop, still feeling the adrenaline course through his body. He leveled his weapon again and scanned the room for hostiles, as the massive Mass Effect core in the center of the room was hard to miss.

It had been a few minutes since Cortana had guessed their ETA, so he still had fifteen minutes to go. His suit was battered and dented, but still intact. Shields were still functioning too. "That is core. How do we shut it down?"

Cortana didn't respond.

"Cortana?"

" _How do you do it?"_ she then quietly asked.

"What do you mean?"

" _I'm the AI…you're organic. Yet you always stay calm. You always keep your cool."_

John didn't like the way Cortana divided 'AI' and 'organic'. She was who she was and he was who he was. There was no line dividing them. "Cortana…we'll make it."

" _You were always by my side…my carrier. My friend. John…we don't get to live your lives. Do you know what happens to smart AI's, after seven operational years? Do you know how we die?"_

The Chief lowered his head. "Rampancy," he replied. A smart AI started feeling a wide range of uncontrollable emotions, it grew worse and worse until the AI started deteriorating in functions and abilities, until it could no longer discern reality from fantasy.

She would fall away from him.

" _I'm falling apart, Chief. I don't want you to see that."_

"That won't happen," the Chief said. He detected movement around him and immediately took aim, but they were just Husks. Blue and red variants, slow, shambling and harmless. "I'll find a way."

 _"I will hurt you. You know that, right? I won't be able to stop myself."_

Unacceptable. Nonsensical. It would not happen. "That doesn't matter." Whatever Cortana would try to do in her sickness, he could take it all. He would bear it until he found a solution. "I need you now. Are you with me?"

" _As long as there is blood pumping through your machine of a heart, I won't let you fall."_


	10. Chapter 10: Directionless

_Chapter 10, in which the Master Chief plays ME 3's multiplayer against Collectors on gold difficulty and Shepard strolls around Tuchanka.s wasteland._

 _~0~_

* * *

 _From what I have gathered, the effects of the three drugs found in the SS-project's Augmentation plan might be a desired one cooked up by Section One to stimulate the animal part of the brain during stressful scenarios, as doing so will result in a major increase in stamina, endurance and aggression, but they did not think about the aftereffects and side-effects of adding such drugs in the combination."_

\- Mental Health Specialist Jennifer Sunfield, logbook entry 4, 24th of August 2552-. .

~0~

* * *

 **Mil System**

 **Chalkhos**

 **Athame hospital**

For what felt like the tenth time that day, Mirere Vani received some very disturbing news. In-between the constant gang-wars, farmers trying to sell their psychoactive substances and gene mods that had to be filtered out lest they cause tumors or dementia, the ancient Prothean ruins at the edge of the city were now actively glowing. Yes, the fifty thousand-year-old ruins left behind by an extinct species were glowing, lighting up like an emergency beacon.

Not that she particularly cared about that. As one of the few remaining doctors in this wretched place that was called a city, she had much more pressing issues to worry about. The constant infighting and drug trafficking between the gangs in the city took their toll on the health of the small population that lived there and new patients came in every day. She had gun wounds, stab wounds, chemical injuries and sometimes even dismemberment cases to deal with and on top of that, she had to scrounge together the weekly protection money that kept the Blue Sun "protectors" from ravaging the hospital.

Or people _worse_ than the Blue Suns.

Mirere rubbed her temples, frustrated that her colleague would contact _her_ of all people. "Can't you send someone else?" She asked, not even bothering to keep the frustration out of her voice. "I'm running low on medi-gel and our blood-stores are running low, I _need_ to stay here."

Of course it wasn't that easy. The ruins that were found at the edge of the city were…important to the local populace. There weren't many experts on Prothean buildings and as one of the few remaining asari here, she was about the only eligible person to try and shut the damn thing down before it attracted every single gangbanger in the city.

The resulting casualties would flood the Athame hospital and the Blue Suns would force her to ignore the civilians to treat their people instead. That wasn't what she had signed up for; treating mercenary scumbags wasn't why she had remained on this hellhole.

But that duty for the people cut both ways. So Mirere grabbed her stuff, armed herself with an M-3 Predator and headed out. The gun was powerful and precise and could punch through any armor after she had Warped it. And though she was technically still in her Maiden stage, Mirere had enough experience as a warrior to know how to use it.

Sometimes, when she didn't spend those free hours at night sleeping, she wondered why she had not simply left this place behind. More often than not, the answer had presented itself very quickly and very clearly. Between her sordid past as an Eclipse trooper and her frustratingly-powerful conscience, there were very few jobs she could take that didn't involve violence in some sort. At least here, the occasional, bouts of violence were immediately followed up by her actually acting like a doctor.

The asari made her way to one of the two remaining X3M shuttles. Old, damaged and still reliable, the slow aircars had been a gift from one of the Eclipse mercenary groups when they had concluded their business on Chalkhos, three years ago. They could travel about six kilometers every ten minutes, though they took their sweet time charging up.

There wasn't much air traffic in the city anymore. Every now and then a Blue Sun gunship could be seen flying over a few buildings, or it could be heard as it helped solve a territorial dispute. The Blue Suns held the most ground in the city and everybody knew that. Most of the other gangs just didn't care about the carnage that would unfold every damn time they pressed their luck.

But what did Mirere know? She had yet to reach her first century. Her time as a mercenary had ended when she discovered what was expected of Eclipse troopers, especially gifted biotics like her.

She didn't stand for that.

The old aircar quickly reached the ruins that had caused her colleague so much distress. She had no idea how in the name of the Goddess she would deactivate it, as nobody even knew what was inside them.

Ruins also weren't the right word. These structures were the only ones in the city -and Mirere was willing to bet on the rest of Chalkhos too- that were completely undamaged. Oh, local gangs had tried to deface, vandalize or otherwise mess with the structure alright. It just didn't stick. It couldn't be damaged. The weird, blue-grey metal remained ever so brilliant.

The asari doctor stepped out of the aircar and locked it. It didn't look like the gangs had noticed the structure yet, but it did look very odd indeed. It wasn't so much shining as it was…transmitting. A single, tight beam of yellow light was shooting out of the top, straight into the sky in pulsating, four-second intervals. How very weird.

Somehow, the sudden activity unnerved Mirere. She didn't know what to make of it, but it caused her scalp to tinkle an/d a shiver ran down her spine. She had never seen anything like this before.

The Prothean structure -if it really was Prothean- looked a lot like a cross between a tower and a platform, taller than it was wide.

The asari approached the tower and looked around again. No Blue Suns, no gangs, nobody. She had some time.

Mirere made a mental note to thank her Eclipse friend and then approached the structure, looking for anything that could be used to shut this thing off. The last thing the city needed was a massive beacon that would attract even more unwanted attention.

However, as she walked around the tower, searching for a way to deactivate it, she felt increasingly stupid. As if a building like this was supposed to have an off-switch!

She called her colleague with her omni-tool, intent on giving the human a piece of her mind. "Abigail? It's Mirere. I'm at the tower."

" _You are? Good, my patients are freaking out. Can you shut that thing thing off?"_

 _"_ I'm not an expert on Prothean structure's, Ab."

" _But you're an asari-"_

"So? Just because I'm an asari doesn't have to mean that I'm an instant expert on anything Prothean!"

" _Sorry. So can you find anything?"_

"No! It's a giant beam of light, I can't-"

Just as Mirere was about to explain that there was no way she would be able to tinker with a Prothean building and that they had better get used to the lightshow, the illumination of the structure around her faded away, and the beam ceased to be.

"Oh what the -I'll call you back."

The asari doctor had _no_ idea what had just happened. The building had stopped transmitting that weird pillar of light and it seemed to be…powering down. No way that the gangs had missed such a big sign in the sky. Things were going to get bloody.

Mirere was about to pick up and leave -casualties be damned, if she wasn't there to take care of the innocent people things would get much worse- when she saw something else. Something that made her stay, despite her fears of inbound mercenaries and gang-wars.

It was a human, lying on a silver platform that Mirere could have sworn hadn't been there before. He didn't move, and it wasn't hard to imagine why. His dark skin was marred by bruises and cuts, his dark-green outfit looked charred and bloody and his chest seemed to have been blasted apart by a high-power mining laser.

"Goddess," whispered the asari. She quickly ran over towards the battered human and knelt next to him, checking for a pulse.

She hadn't expected him to be alive with injuries like these, so when she found out that his heart was still beating, she was elated.

Finally, a good reason to have come here. If she could pull this human back from the dead…she would be one step closer to having redeemed herself.

"Hey, I got you. You're going to be alright," she said, carefully administering several doses of medi-gel to his wrecked chest cavity. The genetically engineered bioplasm was easily the best thing that the humans had ever developed; it was basically an anesthetic, disinfectant, and clotting agent all in one. Once applied to a wound, the gel would grip tight to the exposed flesh until it was subjected to a specific frequency of ultrasound, whereupon it would fall apart and be processed harmlessly.

But even then, she wasn't sure if this would keep him alive until she got to her equipment. His injury was horrendous; she wasn't sure if he even had both lungs anymore. She would have to find a way to administer oxygen locally, and also take care of those charred bones. What had happened? It looked like the man had been executed by a complete squad of Blue Suns, all firing their incineration module at the same time.

The chances of him surviving such grievous burn wounds were…slim. Very slim. And even if he survived and managed to recover, which would take weeks of extensive therapies, he might be crippled for life.

Mirere banished the thoughts of euthanasia and gently lifted the human from the ground with her biotics. "You are going to be alright," she said again. Her words rang hollow, but she had to try.

Sometimes, she wished her mother was still with her.

~0~

* * *

The massive wave of Husks was like the Flood, tenacious, ruthless and utterly unconcerned with losses. They were monstrous, uttering garbled and flanging groans as they chased the backtracking Spartan. Like the Flood, they were unconcerned with missing limbs and incoming fire and very numerous.

Unlike the Flood, they could be killed with single strikes. The Master Chief shifted his weight to his right leg and lashed out with his left, swiftly decapitating one of the red Husks before it could grapple him and subsequently explode. The headless corpse fell to the ground and then spectacularly failed to explode, unlocking another strategy for the Chief's already sizeable collection.

" _Chief, now!"_ yelled Cortana. The Spartan whirled around, threw a Husk against an incoming cluster of the cybernetically-enhanced abominations and opened fire on the exposed Mass Effect core, which had both the form of an eye as the annoying tendency to randomly close like an eye. A heavily-armored, shielded eye.

He opened fire and emptied the last of his beam weapon capacity into the Mass Effect core, heavily damaging it but not destroying it. The weapon hissed dangerously when he continued to pull the trigger and he was quick to discard it, recalling a very close incident with the first Fuel Rod Cannon designs back on the first Halo.

"I'm out," he called, slamming his elbow into the chest of an approaching Husk and destroying the internal mechanism that kept the tech-corpse going, as it slumped to the ground. The next one jumped at him, but the Chief easily caught it, pinned it into a headlock and ripped its head off, all without breaking stride.

" _Then you need to get in!"_ Cortana urgently told him.

John instantly caught her drift and approached the core, which closed yet again. He held his ground in front of the technological marvel, fending off increasingly-large waves of moaning, running monsters in close combat. Cortana utilized his near-superhuman reflexes and incredible speed to their maximum potential by constantly highlighting the closest hostiles in yellow, allowing him to seamlessly flash back and forth between the Husks without pausing.

The super-soldier launched himself at one of the red Husks, decapitated it with a double-handed blow from the sides of it head and immediately leapt at another one on the other side of the room. His boot connected with its neck and the creature caved in underneath his strike, its limp body flung aside. Within four seconds, the Chief had slain the entire mass of Husks. The last one was thrown up in the air by the utter force behind his uppercut, which cracked its skull open and sheared its lower jaw off. He then caught the falling Husk on his knee and slammed both of his elbows down on its torso, breaking it in half.

His HUD flashed and an electronic trickle ran down John's spine. He spun around and faced the Mass Effect core that, after the last onslaught of reborn corpses, had opened up again.

" _Do it!"_

The Spartan burst into movement and launched himself at the shimmering blue core. The air crackled and hissed around him and his shields flared, slowly draining to ninety percent. Then to eighty.

For the Master Chief, time slowed to a trickle when he pulled back his fist to strike. His stomach lurched and his sight flickered for a second, but he would not be deterred. He struck the core with his armored gauntlets, again and again, until the fiber-thin layer that protected it shattered and exposed him to the full force that the core emanated.

Sixty percent.

The electric current that ran across his spine jumped to the rest of his body and he gritted his teeth. That sickening feeling in his stomach turned to outright pain and when the core suddenly burst with enough force to fling him off, he was silently grateful that it was over.

" _I'm sorry,"_ Cortana softly said. " _That was the only way to destroy it without weapons…I believe your suit stopped the radiation…and the rest…and you alright?"_

The Spartan shook his head to clear his vision and sighed.

" _Chief, tell me you're alright!"_

With the core offline, the Collector Cruiser was going to fall apart upon atmospheric reentrance. Thousands would die, because he hadn't been sharp enough to find a solution.

No. The deaths of these people were not on him. He had tried all he could. Sometimes, even Spartans were too late.

"Where do I pick you up?" asked the Chief. He glanced around again, half-expecting Cortana to eject some terminal for him to pull her out.

" _There should be a terminal near our exit point. Where we...jump."_

John picked up on her hesitation. "So how do we get there?"

" _Yes…about that. There is only one exit to this room. The same as the entrance."_

The Chief halted, remembering the narrow escape into this room. There would be more than fifty Collector troopers and several Scions waiting for him outside the door, ready to unleash hell the moment they saw him. Their coordination was sharp and their weapons hit hard. He would not escape this room unharmed. If they managed to perforate his MJOLNIR, he would not be leaving this ship at all. Decompression would be the end of him once subjected to the vacuum of space. "Can you find me an alternate route?"

" _No,"_ Cortana unhappily replied. " _However, I can do something else. You're not going to like it however."_

"You said that once. If it gets me out of here, I'll do it."

" _Right. The Spartan Neural Interface allows me to interact directly with your brain. Normally, I simply improve the data transfer between your motor cortex and your suit´s processing unit, without actually interfering with your nerves."_

"Simple," the Chief noted.

" _Yes, I said that. However…the rate of action potential conduction limits the flow of information within the nervous system. I can…interfere directly, so I might be able to offer a noticeable boost in your reaction speed, at the cost of major discomfort and potential discrepancies in your body that might last for days."_

Discomfort he could deal with, but that part about the potential discrepancies sounded troublesome. Nevertheless, if he wanted to get out of this place alive and return to the fight, he would have to risk it. "Sounds like a plan."

" _You have to be certain, John. If I do this now…in my state, I might cause nerve damage, or harm something that should not be harmed. I might mess it up."_

"You won't," replied the Master Chief. "The Collectors are a major threat. The Reapers are worse. Commander Shepard needs us."

" _And we do everything for our duty, don't we?"_

No question there. "Yes."

" _Then you're sure?"_

"Do it."

The doors opened.

Whatever Cortana had to say fell away when a sudden lance of pain shot through his head, reverberating through his skull and shooting down his spine. His hands jerked and his perception of reality fell away underneath an influx of adrenaline and whatever else Cortana set loose upon his body.

Two Scions stepped into view.

The Master Chief scanned the terrain ahead for the optimal path. His mind processed the information like a super-computer, immediately taking into account the thirty-thee Collectors that had gathered behind the doors, including one Harbinger-possessed one. There were four metal platforms that hid a total of five Collectors, all armed with beam weapons. Beyond that, multiple Cortana-controlled platforms were aligned in such a way that they could be used as stepping blocks. Two Praetorians patrolled among them.

The Scions raised their weapons.

The Chief's world had been reduced that one of shadows and motions, blurs and lights. He watched the enemies move like they were suspended in water, painfully slow and utterly exposed. There was no sound, only the steady beating of his heart and the feeling of molten metal that rushed through his veins. Cortana was right, whatever she was doing _hurt_. But it was not a bad form of pain. It was…difficult. It felt right.

The Scions took aim-

And John exploded into movement. He took several thundering steps, sped past the Scions before they could even register that he had moved and instantly spotted his path. The Collectors just didn't know it yet.

The Spartan moved like the lightning, fluid and impossible to pin down. He jumped and vaulted over one of the few pieces of cover, slamming his boot against the head of one of the Collectors that had been hiding behind it. He tore the rifle from its dying grip without breaking stride and leapt at the Harbinger drone, which was still trying to pin down his position.

He didn't give it that chance. He side-stepped it and gave it a kick in its spine, not enough to kill it but definitely enough to daze it. The Harbinger wasn't his goal.

The platforms were. On his blood he would get out of this place alive.

~0~

* * *

 **Tuchanka**

 **Urdnot Clan grounds.**

"Halt," said the krogan guard. He extended a hand towards Jane, but did not actually touch her. "You must wait till the clan leader summons you. He is…in talks."

The krogan turned around and glanced at the two large krogan bickering about traditions and Jane's instantly felt for the guard. Obviously he was stuck listening to the ramblings of an idiot. She could see the fun in listening to their rambling, but the ancient krogan sitting on the throne didn't seem to share her thoughts.

"Clan Urdnot must respond! Your reforms will not go unopposed! You risk appearing weak at a critical time!"

Urdnot Wrex looked bored utterly out of his mind. He sighed, tapped his large foot against the edge of his fancy-looking throne and glancing aside, like he was desperate for any form of distraction whatsoever.

And then his red eyes locked with green ones and a wicked smile formed on his scarred face. He uttered a single word and Jane knew that all would be well. "Shepuurd!"

The Commander smirked and crossed her arms. "He likes me more than you," She told the guard, who stepped aside, likely knowing what his clan chief would do if not given immediate room.

One other unlucky guard was not as wise and got completely bowled over as Wrex rushed down the platform like a bullet train, overjoyed and completely incoherent in his speech. "Shep, hah! Grah, outamyway! Shepurrd! MY FRIEND!"

Jane couldn't suppress a cry of joy as the massive krogan grabbed her arm and vigorously shaking it, nearly tearing it off in his enthusiasm. After the cold shoulder that Ash had given her on Horizon and the recent death of the Master Chief, this was a welcome change of pace.

The aged krogan half-pulled her back to his throne, soundly ignoring Grunt, Mordin and his own guest. "You look well for dead, Shep! Should have known the void couldn't hold you!"

Yeah, to say that Wrex and Jane had bonded in the weeks they had spent together before the destruction of the Normandy was an understatement. Her decision to spare the Council and save the _Destiny Ascension_ despite her having very little reason to do so had surprised him. Her somewhat alternative view on life had amused him. As a result, he had taken a liking to her as well.

"Glad to see you found your place in the end," said Jane. Urdnot Wrex taking his place as the leader of his clan to drag it out of the pit that the krogan had fallen into was a very welcome sight.

"Yeah, Virmire was a turning point for the krogan. Destroying Saren's genophage cure saved us from his manipulation. I used that to spur the clans to unify under Urdnot."

"You abandoned many traditions to get your way," the krogan in his blue suit commented. "Dangerous."

One krogan headbutt later, Wrex continued. "Speak when spoken to, Uvenk. I'll drag your clan to glory whether it likes it or not."

The thought of the krogan clans finally coming together and rebuilding Tuchanka filled Shepard with glee. She had always held a soft spot for the big guys, even though many of them had tried to violently kill her in the past. Heck, Wrex looked downright huggable right now.

"Now, Shepard. What brings you here? Is the Normandy still…you know…blown up?"

"Yup," Jane cheerfully replied. "Collectors don't do things halfway. We're going to get back at them, don't worry about it."

"Hehe…of course. And you even got a bigger ship, with a bigger crew. Not with me though. My work here is too important."

As Wrex explained how he had reformed a large section of the clans, hoping to combat the genophage and strengthen the krogan, Shepard noticed Garrus becoming a little antsy. He, together with Samara and Kasumi, hung back together to let her speak. Mordin was too busy gawking at the varren fights.

They could wait. Wrex had provided neutral areas where discussions and exchanges could be dealt with, as well as shelter for the fertile females. It assured that many krogan would think twice about attacking clan Urdnot, but also flew in the face of many traditions.

If those traditions were like this Uvenk character made them out to be, Jane was happy to see them gone.

But all good things had to pass and though the Commander longed to chat about the good old times, she was here for a reason. "Sorry Wrex, but I've got business to attend to. I was hoping you could help me."

The big krogan chuckled. "Always busy, ain't ya? Know that we're making an exception for you, Shepard. The krogan don't generally like aliens doing business on Tuchanka."

"You make me feel so special. Alright then, I'll hurry it up. I'm looking for a Salarian by the name of Maelon. He was captured by the Blood Pack and brought here on Tuchanka."

"My scout commander can direct you. He's probably near the perimeter running target practice. Don't waste too much of his time; I need a constant lookout on the other clans."

"I won't. And then…Wrex Grunt, Grunt Wrex." She gestured at her teammate, who stepped forwards and met Wrex' eyes. There, introductions over. "He has some kind of sickness and needs treatment, I think."

Wrex snorted. "Where are you from, welp? Was your clan destroyed before you could learn what is expected of you?"

Grunt explained his true origins, which didn't seem to surprise Wrex one bit. The Urdnot shot a glare at Shepard. _Seriously?_ It seemed to say.

Jane shrugged. _Yup._

The other krogan did not take kindly to Grunt. "You recite warlords, but you are the offspring of a syringe."

That remark stung, harder than it should. Jane recalled the Master Chief, whose species she had never even gotten to know. What did it matter where you came from? Deeds mattered more than one's origins. "I bet Grunt could arm-wrestle you," Jane commented.

The Uvenk figure turned to face her. "What?" he said, confused.

Jane smirked. "In fact, _I_ could arm-wrestle you."

Wrex chuckled again, his deep voice making him sound suspiciously like a cheerful grandfather. "Burned," he said, mirroring a comment Jane had thrown his way during the old days, when Tali had shown the old krogan that she could reassemble a shotgun faster than he could.

It looked like krogans were never too old to learn.

"I am pure krogan," Grunt bit at Uvenk. "You should be in awe."

With Uvenk burned and in awe, Wrex turned his attention to Jane again. He explained how being a tank-bred krogan, made by Okeer of all people, didn't make Grunt the most popular baby krogan on Tuchanka. Shepard had never really seen the importance of being popular -her school career had ended on Mindoir when she had barely reached her sixteenth birthday- so she really only needed to know one thing.

"Is he sick? Can we treat him?"

Wrex sighed. "He's not sick. He is becoming a full adult."

"Ah, puberty ritual," Mordin said, along with a whole string of other words that Jane was unable to process.

"I don't care what aliens call it. Krogan undergo the Rite of Passage."

The touchy Uvenk didn´t like that. "Too far, Wrex!" He snapped as he stormed off. "Your clan may rule, but this thing is not krogan!"

Had he not heard Grunt's invocation?

Wrex summed up what all three of them were thinking at that moment. "Idiot. So Grunt? Do you wish to stand with Urdnot?"

"Grunt? That's your call."

After a few moments of looking like the most thoughtful krogan Jane had ever seen, Grunt gave his answer. "It is in my blood. It is what I am for."

Wrex huffed. "Good boy. Speak with the shaman. Give him a good show and he'll set you on your path."

Jane nodded. "Mordin? You, Samara and Kasumi are going to search for Maelon. Talk to the scout commander. Garrus? You and I are going to escort Grunt straight into puberty."

Garrus groaned. "Can't we just take him to Omega and buy him a few drinks?"

"Were it so easy, Garrus," replied the old krogan. "You're with Shepard. You should know what to expect by now."

"Yeah, I guess so. Good to see you're still in one piece, Wrex."

Wrex chuckled and touched his own facial scars. "I see I inspired you?"

Garrus nervously laughed. "Took a rocket to the face. Somebody needed to fill the gap you left."

"Hehe…I heard Shepard had a thing for scars."

"We'll go looking for this shaman," said Shepard, not liking where this conversation was going. "Thank you, Wrex."

"Yeah yeah, don't mention it."

The shaman, as it turned out, had met the krogan Uvenk as well. And he was not amused.

"You go beyond yourself, Gatatog Uvenk! The rites of Urdnot are dominant!"

It appeared that Uvenk still didn't like the idea of Grunt. It was odd. Why would he care?

"How do we know it will challenge him? He's unnatural! The beasts of the rite could ignore him like a lump of plastic!"

Grunt and Jane approached the two bickering krogan even as the shaman shot down Uvenk's last complaint. "They know blood no matter the womb. Your barking does not help your case."

Grunt was not amused either. "I'll speak for myself!"

The shaman approached Grunt, getting up in his face. "This is the tank-bred? It is very lifelike. Smells correct as well. Your protests ring hollow, Uvenk."

Jane decided that she did not like Uvenk. "I don't care what this idiot says. Grunt has the right to be here!"

"There's some fire, and from an alien! Oh, the shame this heaps on those who whine like pups." Jane did like the shaman.

But Uvenk was not done. "If this must stand on ritual, then I invoke a denial! My krantt stands against him. He has no one!"

The shaman grunted. "My patience is tested, but Uvenk invokes correctly. Grunt, who is your krantt? Your allies willing to kill and die on your behalf?"

Wrex had explained the purpose of a krantt to Jane, back on the original Normandy. She understood the finer details behind it. "We will fight by his side," she said. "Who will serve as our enemy?"

The old shaman nodded. "Spoken well! Most aliens -and some krogan- do not understand our ways. I believe this human does."

Oh, the human understood them better than the Uvenk. Which was why said human stood firmly on Wrex' side.

"Aliens don't know strength!" Uvenk still had the guts to continue his opposing. "My followers are true krogan! Everything about Grunt is a lie- oomph!"

Jane, having already decided that she did not like this Uvenk, did what she always did when people had pushed her patience enough. She slammed her forehead against his with enough force to stagger him. As he clutched his head, so did Jane.

 _Did I just headbutt a krogan?_ She thought as she proceeded to rub her neck. The brain damage would be well worth it, but the next time, she would fling up a barrier before she did that. See how the big guy liked being thrown around the…room was stretching it a bit. Pile of rocks then.

"You…you dare?" Uvenk muttered, currently inhabiting a spectrum between utterly embarrassed and utterly confused. Any onlooker could see the thought in his eyes: _did a human just headbutt me?_

And the human would do much more if he didn't shut up now. She was fine with people insulting her, but insulting her teammates was unacceptable.

The shaman was overjoyed. "Ba ha ha ha! I like his human! She understands!"

Uvenk made his decision. "I withdraw my denial. This will be decided elsewhere!" And with that, he roughly brushed past Shepard and walked away with large strides.

"You have provoked him," said the shaman. "Reason enough for me to like you. They're your problem now."

Shepard had a hunch that this wasn't the last she had seen from Uvenk. She wasn't about to let a krogan with a grudge make preparations against her, not when she had another team walking around the clan grounds. "We're ready. Start the rite."

"Excellent."

He beckoned Jane, Grunt and Garrus to follow him, which they did.

Shepard wondered what this rite would bring. Krogan had this annoying tendency to glorify combat and war and kill for fun. This rite of passage and its 'beasts' would most likely contain a lot of fighting and killing, which she guessed was the best way to test if something was strong enough to live on Tuchanka. She didn't like it, but…

Jane chuckled and Garrus gave her an odd look. "Shepard?"

"It's nothing," she replied. "Just thinking about how fun this'll be."

~0~

* * *

 **Tuchanka**

 **En-route to hospital**

 **Weyrloc clan grounds**

"Hey, Samara?" Kasumi Goto asked as the trio wandered across the devastated wasteland of the krogan homeworld, sweeping their weapons across its surface.

"Yes, Kasumi?" The elder asari gracefully replied, looking through the scope of her M-15 Vindicator. For a woman who found herself on what was basically the most dangerous planet in the galaxy, she seemed pretty composed. Well…she _was_ an Justicar. A thousand years of awesomeness and biotic prowess to match them should be enough to see her through.

"I was wondering…what do you think about Shepard?"

It seemed that remark got her attention. Not Mordin's though; the fast-mouthed salarian was a lot more interested in scurrying around the landscape than paying any attention to the two women in his team. An old salarian, a Justicar and a master-thief. Man, Shep did know how to pick them.

"The Commander? Why would you ask?"

Their conversation got cut off when they got attacked by the local wildlife. And by wildlife, Kasumi really meant giant fire-breathing crabs that exploded when shot enough times. There were two of them, until the team unleashed their collective tech and biotic abilities, after which there were none. Asari were really graceful with their biotics; Samara was almost as impressive to watch as Shepard.

"Oh, don´t get me wrong, I have a deal with her and I intent to see it through. I´m just curious; what do you think?"

They encountered another large crab-thing, joined by two large varren. Tuchankian wildlife like this wasn't that impressive and they too were quickly dispatched by a healthy combination of gunfire and biotics.

"I think that the Commander is an honorable individual," replied Samara, sweeping a chunk of meat from her shoulder. "And her affinity for combat is impressive, for a human."

 _For a human_ …yeah, that was somewhat an understatement. Kasumi had only been on one or two missions with Shepard by now -the only reason she was risking her neck was the greybox- but what she had seen had really impressed her. Asari were among the most gifted biotics in the galaxy and Shepard was more destructive than any asari that Kasumi had ever seen.

It was somewhat disturbing as well.

"I get all that honor stuff, but the Commander seems a bit…strange."

"Shepard's strangeness purely based on perception of world," Mordin told them from a few meters away. "Human soldier with peculiar experience in field."

"Yeah, but…I don't think it's just that. She's not like people I know. Her sense of humor is wicked, like she lives in her own little world, at times."

"The Commander possesses great political tact, as well as creativity that seems characteristic of your species," replied the Justicar. "Her eccentric behavior is merely a by-product of her experiences."

Mordin shot a Blood Pack vorcha in the face and replied, "However! Strange behavior confirmed in meaningless conversations or small talk. Once started conversation about sexually transmitted varren diseases-"

Kasumi shivered. Scale itch…she had been present during that conversation too, much to her regret.

"-and Shepard followed train of thought leading to overprized flowers in Citadel." The doctor took a deep breath and added, "Was taken aback."

"That's exactly what I mean!" Kasumi cloaked and then repositioned herself to shoot a charging krogan in his kneecap, sending him stumbling straight into a Warp field laid down by Samara. "She can so serious at times and then completely blow your mind with a ditzy remark."

More vorcha pyros then appeared, but Mordin got creative and targeted their backpacks with his Incineration tech. The gathered ball of hot stuff splashed across the back of one pyro who then gorily exploded into chunks of hot meat, blood and pieces of metal. Kasumi groaned and averted her eyes; she was a thief, not a butcher.

"I fail to see the issue still," said Samara. "I have yet to experience the Commander in that way."

"Point moot," Mordin then declared. "Need to find Maelon first. Can discuss human conversational habits later."

Alright, fine. Kasumi inserted a new heat sink into her weapon and sighed. "Sure. Why not?"

~0~

* * *

The Master Chief slumped down against the dark, metal wall and frantically eyed his surroundings for more hostiles, gliding across from one shadow to the next. His shields slowly recharged and he peered over the chest-high wall, brandishing a Collector rifle as he did.

A drone popped its head outside of its cover as well and he immediately took the shot, sending several rounds downrange. The rifle had never been designed for human ergonomics and because of that, it was difficult to handle.

More Collectors immediately pinpointed his position and hosed it with fire, forcing the Spartan to duck low and make a break for one of the pillars that were scattered through the room.

A door opened up behind him, releasing more of the blue-skinned freaks, all of them charging the Chief in earnest. It was necessary to scrub the lot of them before he could shift his priorities to yet another Harbinger-possessed drone. His head was pounding from the Cortana-induced boost his nerves had been put through and he had a hard time focusing. Some of his shots went wide with no possible explanation other than his own lack of accuracy.

One of the hostiles leapt through the air, supported by fluttering insect-like wings and landed next to him.

The Spartan dropped to one knee and opened up in full-auto, blasting the drone until the rounds tore through its shimmering shield and riddled whatever organs it had, toppling the monstrosity.

"How much longer?" The Chief barked at Cortana, who immediately projected a timer, with seven minutes remaining.

 _Seven minutes more of this?_ The Chief had long since run out of ammo for his own weapons and had to rip enemy weapons from their dead claws in order to stand a chance at the waves of troops the Collectors threw at him. Harbinger took every opportunity to possess his drones whenever they were close to the Chief, taunting him with disturbing lines and blasting him with searing firepower.

After winding through the confusion of hive-like chambers and long hallways filled with the Husks, he had finally made his way to one of the weak points of the ship that would disintegrate upon atmospheric insertion. Here he would retrieve Cortana and make a final stand until the Collectors reached the colony. However, they knew his location and they were throwing everything they had at him to take it back.

The Master Chief rounded the pillar and confronted the Harbinger drone that had been brazenly marching his way, pelting him with yellow-black projectiles that seemed to trail their target just like Needler rounds did. His stolen weapon was actually touching the Collector's chest when he pulled the trigger.

Unfortunately, the weapon clicked empty after two seconds and the rounds had failed to drop the Harbinger's shields. It struck the Spartan with a large ball of dark light, dropping the freshly-regenerated shields right back to sixty percent.

The Master Chief, not about to let something breach his suit and put him in the same death-trap that had ended Sam so long ago, responded with the ingrained violence and efficiency that had been drilled into him decades back. He shifted his weight to his left leg and lashed out with the right, bypassing the Harbinger's biotic barrier with a roundhouse kick and cracking the thick layer of armor that protected its body.

Dazed, the form stumbled backwards. The Chief immediately unleashed a flurry of punches at its chest, shattering what remained of its armor underneath the heavy blows. He then snaked his arm underneath the Harbinger's, redirected its desperate biotic assault to a charging Husk and then pulled the drone closer, slamming his head against the Collector's.

The Titanium helmet was strong enough to crack open Harbinger's head. It crashed to the ground and rapidly faded away, as all Harbingers seemed to do when killed. Some sort of self-destruct mechanism to prevent their bodies from falling into the enemy's hands?

With yet another alien weapon depleted, the Chief was forced to engage the enemy in close-quarters combat once more. One of the Collectors with a beam weapon had taken refuge at the top of one of the large pillars in the room and it was tracing him throughout its interior. The thin, yellow beam occasionally blasted through thin sheets of metal and protruding rocks, as the Collector effortlessly tracked him.

Tracking did not imply hitting, as the Spartan moved too fast for the sharp-eyed freak to follow. He sprinted across the outer fringes of the massive room, leapt over a console of sorts and slammed his boot into the chest of an approaching Collector, who then landed somewhere on the opposite side of the room.

He noticed several protuberant rocks in the sides of the pillar that the Collector was using as a vantage point and his mind instantly planned a way up.

" _Chief, we have little time left. I can keep this thing at bay, but for too long. When you remove me from the system, every single door to this room will open."_

Cortana said that as if it was news. The Master Chief was very aware of the reinforcement problem; every now and then, Cortana's fight with this intelligence in the system would result in one of the four entrances to this room opening for a few moments, allowing a dozen new Collectors to enter the fray. Who in their right mind would build a room with four entrances?

And who in their right mind would subsequently pick _that_ room as suitable defensive position?

The Spartan effortlessly reached the top of the vantage point. Before the Collector sniper could process what was happening, he grabbed a hold of its weapon and then kicked its owner off the pillar, sending it plummeting into the ground.

"When should I yank you?" he asked.

" _Preferably after the ship makes atmospheric insertion. Definitely before it shakes itself apart without its functioning mass effect core."_

"So, no pressure?"

Their dialogue was interrupted as a variety of Collector forms took advantage of Cortana's momentary distraction and entered via one of the doors, quickly scattering into the dark room and opening fire. Suddenly the Chief was fighting for his life again, moving away from the pillar and back and forth across the room to minimize the fire he took, blasting everything that moved.

It became part of a familiar pattern. Collector drones would propel themselves high in the air with heavy flutters of their wings, only to be nailed down by precision fire as the Spartans targeted them. Husks came running at him like they were eager to be burned down under the energy weapon and another Scion marched into the room, taking aim with its arm-cannon.

And so it went, as the Master Chief fought and killed his way across the large chamber, stopping only to take cover when his shields were down and constantly sweeping back and forth across the various hallways that surrounded the large structure in the middle, until he rounded a corner and encountered that same Scion he had seen enter the room at the beginning.

The interior reminded him too much of the Library, but without the annoying presence of Guilty Spark and without the stench of cooked meat and dead bodies.

The Scion attacked immediately, but as the Chief had cleared his six from hostiles, he was free to retreat back down where he had come, slowly luring the Scion along with him. The nonstop fighting was starting to wear on him somewhat, as he had yet to gather an adequate amount of rest.

" _Chief, the Collector vessel is approaching the colony. Yank me and take cover!"_

Removing Cortana from the system would allow the intelligence she had been fighting to reclaim the systems. All doors would open, the forces would flood into this room and overwhelm his position.

The Master Chief was ready

"How much time is left?" He asked as he sprinted towards the console he had vaulted over an eternity ago.

" _There,"_ Cortana. " _That console will do. I estimate sixty seconds until the superstructure shakes itself apart, tearing the sip to pieces. We will be exposed to the gravity of the colony. How successful is your drop-rate again?"_

The Chief hastily inserted Cortana´s chip and immediately placed himself in front of it, allowing his shields and armor to shrug off the immediate fire that inadvertently came his direction. As the chip worked its magic and interfaced with the console, his shields dropped to half their power, then a quarter.

Then, he started taking hits.

Cortana's exclamation that she was in came coupled with a flood of sensation as the AI joined him within the confines of the armor's neural network. As always, it felt as if someone had poured a cup of ice water into his mind, followed by a momentary jab of pain, and a familiar presence.

The Spartan immediately exploded into movement, getting the hell out of that open position and diving for cover when two Scions opened fire at once. All four of the heavy doors had been opened and as predicted, complete platoons came marching into the room.

His shields started recharging.

" _You delay the inevitable,"_ the booming voice of Harbinger echoed through the room even as the Spartan backpedaled, firing short controlled bursts into every Collector form that too close. There were dozens of them everywhere he looked. Even with his reflexes kicked into overdrive and protected by his energy shields, he was unable to process everything that happened around him and enemy fire splashed across his chest.

" _Fifty seconds!"_

The Chief slammed the butt of the Collector beam weapon against an approaching Husk and then ducked low to avoid a series of blue lasers that a Praetorian fired off at him. He counted four of the monstrosities, coming at him from all directions.

" _The Descendants' time is at an end,"_ the Harbinger declared, boiling away what little cover the Spartan had with a heavy biotic explosion. " _Your reclamation will never come."_

The Master Chief glanced at his shields, noticed that he had about twenty percent left and leapt at a different pillar, where two collectors were trying to pin him down. He immediately engaged them in close-quarters combat and eliminated both of them within seconds, grabbing their rifles and raising them, one in each hand.

He opened fire on the seemingly-limitless Collectors, prioritizing the unshielded drones to lessen their fire. His superhuman reaction speed allowed him to avoid the majority of their fire, but when the minority that did find their mark was enough to riddle a Scorpion MBT with holes, that meant very little. His shields broke again and the Spartan cursed under his breath, ignoring the sea of red that his motion tracker was trying to pick up on.

" _Forty seconds, Chief. Marking the Praetorian movement."_

Wave after wave of Collector infantry slowly pushed him back to one side of the room. Outflanked on both directions and facing an army directly ahead, the Spartan felt every direct impact on his MJOLNIR. Though the outer layer of his suit was designed to strongly abrade penetrator rounds and shatter smaller caliber rounds, he could still feel the impacts rattle his body.

The Chief downed two Collectors with headshots to his left and three to his right. Six of the red Husks charged him from several directions and he immediately prioritized them, killing them with shots that perforated their chests and let their volatile bodies violently explode, staggering the Collectors near them.

He broke away and took cover behind another small wall, wishing that his shields would recharge faster. He immediately backed away when a Praetorian crept up on his left flank as he fought, disengaged and fought again.

" _Twenty seconds. Chief, your vital signs-"_

"I know," the Chief barked, cutting her off. He discarded his empty weapon and punched a Husk when it came close enough. Its body crumpled and fell to the ground, missing half its head.

The ship shook heavily and the floor seemed to creak with exertion. One of the pillars cracked at the base, but it held, just barely.

" _The superstructure is buckling sooner than I thought. Hang on!"_

Right as Cortana gave the call to hang on, the ceiling collapsed. Large pieces of rock and metal slammed into the floor, which started to tilt dangerously. It took the Master Chief a few moments to figure out that it wasn't just the room shifting its axis, but the entirety of the ship. The walls warped and buckled, impaling an unlucky Collector that had been standing too close as a sudden piece of metal sprang.

The firefight slowly broke off as the individual forces understood what was happening. Some retreated, others flew to different positions of the floor, but the most of them then reprioritized the Spartan. It was telling how much Harbinger wanted him dead if, even with his ship collapsing, he still wanted to waste valuable time with taking him out.

The Chief wasn't too happy to oblige, but it turned out that there was no need to. The floor ripped itself apart under the massive forces that were now exerted on it and more than a few enemy troops vanished in the holes and gashes that were opened up. Through them, the Master Chief could see the outlines of clouds rushing by and occasionally, landmass.

It dawned on him that he was about to pull a maneuver he hadn't performed since Earth. Even then, he had been lucky that Johnson had found him.

" _Chief, if you have a plan, now is the time!"_ Cortana cried out, not even bothering to hide the panic that now laced her voice.

As a matter of fact, the Chief _did_ have a plan. He risked a short sprint towards the other end of the room, dodging most of the fire that was still poured on from all directions. He accelerated to forty miles per hour in a matter of seconds and rammed a section of wall that had been ripped free by the forces that were tearing the ship apart. The metal frame buckled as half a ton of MJOLNIR slammed into it and nearly broke free. The Chief then stepped back and easily spotted the flimsy pieces of dark metal still attaching the outer wall to the general form of the room. Simple blows served to loosen them and the Chief bashed against the plating again, ripping it free from its frame.

" _What are you doing?"_

The Chief didn´t answer her. Instead, he dove after the dark piece of wall that would serve to protect him from most of the heat of the atmospheric insertion. He would be coming down with terminal velocity and failing to properly time his landing would result in his organs being crushed against his impervious MJOLNIR armor.

He saw the sky and earth flashing in rapid succession before his visor and he forced his arms and legs open in a spread-eagle position to control his tumble. He caught a glance of the Collector ship before he managed that. The vessel -attempting to land vertically like a great pillar- was literally shaking itself apart. Massive chunks of rock had already broken off and the metal rings around it soon followed.

Among the grim satisfaction of seeing the Collectors die a certain death, the Chief felt something akin to a rock hitting the bottom of his stomach. _How many people did I just kill?_

The air tore at the MJOLNIR armor as the Master Chief passed the thousand meter-mark. He grabbed a hold of the metal plate in front of him and did not let go. Already the metal was starting to heat up.

Five hundred meters to go.

The Master Chief braced himself against the flat sheet of thick metal, only feeling a slight hint of trepidation. It reminded him of his Spartans on Reach, who had been forced to leap out of their Pelican when it took fire, a mile above ground.

Four of their brothers and sisters had died on impact.

The Chief banished the memory of his burning home and focused on what needed to be done.

"Cortana, overpressure the hydrostatic gel layer before impact."

" _On it. John…"_

Memories of the Ark. Him, on the _Dawn,_ the Arbiter making his way to the bridge.

 _Not then and not now. "_ We´ll make it."

" _…I know."_

~0~

* * *

 **Surface of New Canton**

 **Local time: 17:48**

Bomis Khra'shak's day had just become a lot more complicated. He, along with his partner Folly, had been responsible for mapping the remaining human hideouts for future raids when a massive ship had appeared, somehow bypassing the frigates that Captain Adek Gor'vak had stationed around the colony. The huge vessel had only barely begun entering the atmosphere when something went horribly wrong with it. Some defect, or perhaps even sabotage. It had fallen apart as it descended, tearing itself to pieces under its own weight.

The two of them had taken their teams, five well-armed soldiers per team, to take cover and rightly so. That massive ship had started churning itself into a thousand pieces of junk and debris. Said pieces of junk and debris were as large as some of the houses that the humans lived in and turned the large forest that surrounded the industrious city into a giant scrapyard.

Not that Bomis particularly _cared_ about that. After all, whether the humans died in the attack didn't matter. They would be sold on the slave market or they would get crushed by the falling debris, but either way there would be less humans and that he _did_ care about.

Knowing Captain Gor'vak, he would probably use the sudden appearance of the massive ship to his advantage. The pitiful attempt by the humans to engineer their dens properly had ended in houses that burned down for nothing! Often with their owners in it, too. It made for very little places for their men to sleep, because the industrial area didn't seem to contain much luxury or comfort at all. Perhaps Gor'vak could have his troops do some good with all this debris, turn it into makeshift camps or something.

Bomis had no clue how humanity had managed to spread throughout the Attican Traverse when they couldn't even build their colonies right. Their shacks easily burned down, their industrial zone could barely be used to station their troops at all and the profit of this raid wouldn't even be that high! A few hundred slaves, a thousand at most, that was nothing compared to the more successful raids.

Well, maybe they could salvage some of the debris that the strange ship had left behind. The thing had looked really expensive -even though the Captain had most likely blown it out of the air without so much as taking casualties- and they might find some tech that the black market might be interested in,

Folly and Bomis withheld their teams from scavenging the area until the violence had died down. The few humans who had managed to flee into the forest were most likely dead by now, so it wasn't much use to go after them either.

Still, he wasn't about to blindly walk into potential ambushes. He grabbed his Terminator Assault Rifle and unfolded it, as did the other batarians in his team.

Bomis had never understood why the Citadel races would make the switch to thermal clips. His old Terminator still had the integrated cooldown mechanic so he could keep pouring down rounds at his target.

He didn't buy all that Geth nonsense that the Council kept reporting about. A race of machines following a turian Spectre to attack a human colony? And then proceeding to attack the Citadel itself? It was total crap.

And they accused the batarians of propaganda? Hah!

The twelve troopers started moving around the landscape, occasionally stopping to search ruined houses for human survivors. Captain Gor'vak had established several camps around the city to hoard the slaves. They would be stripped of clothes and valuables, implanted for easier control and then locked in cages that were rigged for easy transport.

Yes, the Captain knew how to work his shifts. He was one of the most successful slavers in the Attican Traverse and the Terminus Systems, as his large amount of hardware and soldiers could prove. On this filthy colony alone he had deployed four Frigates and five-hundred troops, as well as varrens to help sniff the humans out.

Who would have thought that krogan warbeasts had a taste for human meat?

Bomis and his group slowly started spreading out across the forest, taking up good positions to avoid falling into an ambush.

If there was one thing that the batarian had learned throughout his slave runs, it was that humans were crafty and devious creatures. They would commit themselves to whatever option they might see to achieve victory and in these sorts of attacks, their victory was the same as survival. It wouldn't be first time for Bomis if he suddenly found himself in a human-led ambush.

However, as the batarians pushed deeper into the forest, they failed to stumble across any human trickery. Not one of the filthy monkeys had the guts to attack them and eventually, Bomis stopped worrying about potential counter-attacks altogether. The little worms were gutless and cowardly; they wouldn't even try to rescue their lost family members?

Bomis Khra'shak's stopped, letting his thoughts wander to his own family. Despite the low yield, the Captain would be paying them royally for this operation and almost all of that money would be going to his family back in the Bahak system. Things weren't going so good back there -the economy had nearly crashed a few years back and the people were still recovering from that.

After another hour of searching they still had not found anything. No scavenge worth their while and no humans either.

However, Bomis didn't have anything else to do at the moment. The other troops on New Campton were either busy processing the humans or transporting the cages to the Frigates.

Yes, the most boring part of slave runs like these was the waiting.

However, things were about to change very rapidly. One of his soldiers gave a sudden cry of surprise and immediately, the team sprang to attention.

"Sir! I've got something here!" Yelled the trooper.

Bomis cursed under his breath and quickly approached his subordinate. "What is it?" he impatiently asked. He took notice of the charred remains of trees around him, as well as flattened ones.

The trooper stood at the edge of a small crater, in which a piece of debris had flattened itself against the ground. The metal edges were still smoldering.

A few meters away from the crater, tracing a wide gash in the dirt, lay what could only be described as a heavily-armored mech.

A very large mech.

A large, heavily-armored behemoth of a mech. Green, to perfectly blend in with the forest. Was this a human design?

The batarian's two first and foremost responses contradicted each other so heavily that neither of them actually came through. The first was riddling the mech with bullets and the second one was to turn around and just walk away.

But since neither of them came through, Bomis sat there staring at the giant synthetic. It took his subordinates a few times to get through to him and even then, he didn't quite get them.

"Sir?"

The large mech gave off some bad vibes, but it looked expensive as hell. It would net them quite a nice sum of credits on the black market.

In the end, the batarian's greed won out over what his gut told him and he made his decision.

"We're taking this thing with us," said the batarian. The other troopers didn't dare protest. As two moved towards the inert synthetic however, Bomis noticed something interesting and he mentioned for them to halt.

"What is it?" the leader of the second team asked him.

Bomis glanced at the back of the synthetic's head, where something akin to a slot could be seen. A data port? Interesting. Perhaps one of their techs could crack that thing and see what this thing was all about. Perhaps they could even hack this thing, turn it against its former human owners. That would be interesting to watch.

The batarian carefully searched the little port in the back of the thing's helmet. It took him a while to find out how to actually eject the damn thing and when he did, he was surprised to find that it was actually a small chip the size of his thumb. Maybe even smaller. It was blue, shimmering like a ripple in a pond.

The second Bomis actually touched the chip, a spark of sorts jumped across his suit. His kinetic barriers flared and died and he stumbled backwards, confused.

The tech was on him like a hungry varren and scanned him with his omni-tool. "Looks like it was rigged or something. Better take this to the other camp first, have them crack it."

The bastard didn't need to sound so disappointed about it!

Bomis slowly crawled back to his feet, checking his armor with his omni-tool to verify the damage for himself. But his kinetic barriers recharged as he started running a program and it didn't seem like anything was wrong.

Some sort of electric discharge?

Odd.

"You," the batarian snarled, pointing at the other squad leader. "Take this to camp three! I don't want to see the cursed thing again!"

"Sure," the officer said as he took the blue chip. Nothing happened with his shields. "Just don't take all the humans without me. Some of their females look ripe for the taking."

Bomis chuckled. "Then hurry your sorry ass up. They won't be staying ripe much longer."

"Yeah yeah, I'm going…"

He took half the team with him and before soon, Bomis stood alone again. He gestured at his men to pick up the mech and orientated himself towards his own base. Or what was left of it. He didn´t know if it had been smashed by debris or not. He should probably call, but then he would have to explain the strange synthetic to them. Better take it there secretly, take the first shot at hacking it.

The batarian glanced at the two men he had sent for to take the mech with them and much to his surprise -and definitely frustration the two worthless pyjaks were still moping around with it!

"What are you two doing?" He exclaimed.

"It's heavy!" One of them replied. He grabbed the mech by its left arm and hauled, but the thing didn't budge.

The other soldier joined him and grabbed the right arm, but mirroring their position in fancy asari dance-clubs, they couldn't get it up.

"What do you mean, heavy?" Yelled Bomis. "It's not a fucking YMIR!"

But however much they tried, the heavy mech didn't move. Its golden faceplate seemed to be staring oddly at the batarian, who felt his sense of unease increase. These men were capable of dragging adult human males across the streets without a problem. They were strong, proud batarians with military experience. How was dragging a single mech a problem?

"You three, assist these pyjaks and get that thing back to base!"

Bomis took a breath and calmed himself down. It was no use lashing out at his subordinates. He had to focus on the positive aspects; hundreds of slaves, a military-grade mech and enough salvage to build a house out of it.

Things were good.

~0~

* * *

 **Krogan DMZ**

 **Tuchanka**

 **Clan Urdnot rite grounds.**

Jane propelled her body backwards with a flare of biotic energy and unleashed a singularity at the clutch of varren, helplessly lifting them into the air. The dark energy sphere created a powerful mass effect field which immediately sucked in the warbeasts, setting them up for some serious shotgunning from Grunt´s side.

The big baby krogan might be young, but he sure knew his way around a shotgun. In a way he resembled Wrex, in sheer durability and skill in distracting enemies with his big adorable face. But he was not Wrex, and Shepard had to constantly remind herself that she needed to keep an eye him. As much krogan as he was, he made mistakes that could potentially result in his ass meeting the ground.

Luckily, Jane was there to prevent that from happening.

Grunt chuckled deeply as he gunned down the massive wolf-like creatures and then turned around to face down another two varren that had crept on his flank. He bellowed and charged them like a true korgan, knocking one out of his path and grabbing the other one with both of his large hands.

Shepard watched the krogan snap the varren's neck and smirked. This was just like those hunting sessions back on Mindoir, be it without the tracking and the vigilance and the stealth and with a lot more firepower and krogans and Garrus…

…actually, this wasn't like the hunting parties at Mindoir at all. For one, her gun was a lot less precision and a lot more storm of lead. Or whatever it was that these bullets were made of. It was a difficult and confusing experience, having to actually reload a weapon instead of popping the heat-sink.

Shepard slapped a charging klixen in the face with a heavy warp field, utterly annihilated the chitinous armor that protected it and then unloaded the rest of her clip into the weird thing that functioned as a face. The bullets easily tore through the creature and left large, gaping holes in its body.

And then it prettily exploded

Yeah, this submachine gun was different from her Tempest alright. It had to be handled differently too. Jane had made her first mistake when she had emptied the first magazine into the face of a particularly-upset klixen, whereupon her N7 training had promptly taken over her motor control and forced her to slap a thermal clip against the weapon's side.

She had bashed the clip three times against its frame before her mind could process the stupidity of the situation. It required a manual reload, which meant an awkward and sometimes challenging process. The N7 program had been wide enough to encompass how to reload certain ballistic weapons -just like it had encompassed that Fury training she had been longing for since she had first met the pretty four-eyed faces of the batarian slavers, mere months after Mindoir- but experience like that didn't just pop up like that.

So, in the time it took her to reload the SMG, Grunt simply charged the last klixen and bashed its face in against his knees, all the while being set on fire by the thing's fire-breathing capabilities.

"Grunt," yelled Jane. She finished reloading her weapon just as the klixen exploded all over the big krogan, charring his armor and covering him with bits of red meat.

The krogan stopped to look at himself and then uttered a short, barking laugh.

"Now look at yourself," Jane commented, stopping to check her teammate's armor. Not surprisingly, krogan armor was designed to shrug off animals exploding point-blank in their faces. "You're all dirty!"

Grunt grumbled and turned away from her. "Just hit the keystone…"

Shepard shook her head and did as he asked her. She wondered what else the Urdnot clan rite would be throwing at them for this rite of passage; armored reptile-wolves and fire-breathing face-beetles weren't the deadliest animals on Tuchanka, she knew that much.

So, there had to be worse things that were about to happen to them.

Mere seconds after she had ran that thought through her head, as if to verify that yes, worse things _always_ happened, the ground started shaking.

Shaking very hard.

Hard enough to shake itself apart, revealing the twin set of blue tendrils that those with knowledge of biology and Alliance history would know not to ever shoot.

Grunt, being the culturally-educated krogan he was, instantly recognized the Thresher Maw and responded like any non-culturally-educated would.

By promptly shooting it.

Shepard groaned in frustration and the next twenty seconds were spent by playing the miserable little game called 'where the hell would that thing pop up next'. She, Garrus and Grunt would be running around the field, dodging deadly globes of acid and hoping that the ground underneath their feet wouldn't eat them.

She hated Maws. Absolutely hated them. Damn things had nearly ruined the Mako back during her hunt for Saren! And nothing ever damaged the Mako!

"Shepard!" Yelled Garrus. He sprinted towards one of the square columns to take cover, but the Thresher Maw was on him and spat a ball of acid at him too, destroying the metal tower with ease.

 _How does that even work?_ Thought Shepard. What krogan would ever build something that could get wrecked in a single Thresher Maw hit?

The Maw disappeared underground and burrowed its way to the other side of the battlefield. Grunt laughed and slammed a new heat sink into his shotgun, while Shepard took aim with her SMG, waited until the Maw popped up again and then opened fire. She tore through the sixty-round magazine in a matter of seconds and the Thresher responded as any monster would when pelted with high-explosive armor-piercing rounds.

Jane was amazed at the properties of the weapon; it was about as heavy as her Carnifex and lacked the heavy recoil that her Tempest had. Oh, it was recoil-heavy alright, but much easier to keep aligned with the target. Her Tempest had much less average recoil, but was much harder to keep on target.

It lacked the different ammo types though. That sucked.

At least it didn't need specialized mods to help it punch through the Thresher Maw's armor, as its caseless rounds tore into its carapace and caused large, bloody holes that looked much too big to be caused by SMG rounds.

The Maw responded very poorly to that treatment. It seemed to shiver, before fleeing underground once more. Figuring out where it went wasn't difficult; the ground in their midst exploded outwards and Shepard's reflexes, coupled with years of experience, kicked in. She engaged her biotics and rematerialized a few feet away, turning through the air to take aim at the sudden emergence.

The SMG spat out a solid stream of rounds, but the massive Thresher Maw shrugged them off as it hauled itself out of the ground, It targeted Grunt and then slammed its head into the patch of dirt where the krogan had been standing, completely enveloping a large section of the stone plateau with its massive jaws.

Time seemed to slow down as Shepard pulled all biotic energy out of her barrier and into the Thresher Maw's head and tentacles, trapping its head within a thick layer of mass effect fields. preventing the thirty-meter beast from pulling back out. The corona of dark energy rushed across its head and Shepard felt her legs wobble dangerously as the immense effort started consuming her energy reserves.

Garrus immediately aimed down his sights and sent a shot downrange, chipping its armor and flaking off a piece of the chitinous layer that protected the outside of its face.

"Grunt!" Shouted Jane. "Can you-"

The krogan was way ahead of her. She could hear muffled explosions coming from within the Thresher Maw and then, just as the biotic fatigue was starting to weigh on her arms as well, the Maw seemed to explode.

A wave of blood and flesh surged outwards from the Thresher's head. Shepard ducked low to avoid a piece the size of her chest and Garris was knocked off his feet when a meter-long part of a tentacle impacted on his head.

The Thresher Maw, missing half its 'head', seemed to rebound backwards for a few, slow moments, after which its massive body slumped to the ground, shaking the stone plateau for one last time.

Grunt, drenched in the thing's bodily fluids and pieces of meat, glanced at Shepard. Bright, blue eyes met piercing green ones and the Commander shook her head.

"Ah," Garrus groaned and wiped his face. "That's enough alien juice for today…"

Too bad shields didn't protect against gore. Shepard could have sworn the saw Grunt smile at her for a moment, though it could have also been a grimace.

She walked up to her krogan teammate and plucked a thin tendril of orange-red flesh from between his scales. "Huh…looks just like noodles."

"Spirits…Shepard, please don't smell the dead piece of Thresher Maw," said Garrus. "And Grunt! Don't eat that!"

Grunt stopped just when he was about to shove a flab of meat into his mouth. His eyes widened when he noticed that he was being watched and then flashed from Shepard, to Garrus and back to Shepard.

Jane shrugged. "Let´s be fair here…the Thresher Maw ate him first."

Uttering what was slowly becoming a familiar chuckle, Grunt then shoved the piece of meat in his mouth and turned around when he heard something.

Shepard heard it too and she immediately grabbed her SMG again. She watched as a group of krogan appeared from behind the ruins and subconsciously reached for a thermal clip.

"I know you," Garrus told the lead krogan, who indeed wore a very recognizable armor with blue lights running across it. "You're that impolite bastard."

Jane slowly pressed her thermal clip against her SMG, watching Grunt and Garrus approach the trio of krogan warriors. What should she be more annoyed about? Trying to reload a ballistic weapon with a thermal clip or having Gatagog Uvenk start shit again?

"You live, and you brought down the Thresher Maw. No one has done that for generations. Urdnet Wrex was the last one."

Well, Wrex _did_ like to compare Jane to him. This didn't settle the debate of who would win in an arm-wrestle contest between them, but it came close.

"My krannt gave me strength beyond my genes," Grunt retorted, "Which are damn good."

Uvenk approached Grunt with a very self-assured gait. Jane reached a conclusion for herself; Uvenk starting shit was more annoying than her slapping the side of her gun with a thermal clip. At least the latter issue could be fixed with a normal magazine.

Well, if push came to shove, both issues could be fixed with a normal magazine.

"This will cause discussion. I wonder…you say you are pure? No alien meddling in your construction? Just the warlord Okeer?"

"He is pure krogan," Shepard informed Okeer, because she had the feeling that it hadn't stuck the first time. "You should be in awe."

"It would be a reason to accept you," replied Uvenk. He started pacing, as if the prospect of recruiting Grunt was a source of great conflict for him. "You are a mistake, but your potential could tip the current balance of the clans."

"You spit on my father's name. On Shepard's name! But now you stop ranting because I'm strong?"

Jane glanced at the three other krogan. They were fully geared up and not so subtly preparing their weapons.

"With restrictions. You could not breed, of course. Or serve on an alien ship. But you'd be clan in name."

"I don't think you really want him," Shepard then pointed out. She wasn't willing to go in guns blazing, because Uvenk was still Wrex' guest. "You only want him as a prize. See that dead Thresher Maw over there? It wanted him as a price too. Do the smart thing. Walk away."

Unfortunately, the krogan only listened to the first half of her sentence. "Of course I don't really want him! I didn't really want to cooperate with clan Urdnot either. But I had to. Clan Gatagog is on the verge. Either of greatness, or the Dust. I will get traditional support if I fight you and reformer support if I back you. Your rite of passage tipped that balance, too."

Shepard had the feeling that Uvenk still wasn't in awe. She was growing tired of his idiocy, too. And if he wasn't willing to assist Wrex, Tuchanka would be better off without him. It was clear he wasn't willing to listen to reason, either. "If I know Grunt, your answer is coming at muzzle velocity."

Grunt glanced at her like she had just told her that it was his birthday. There was a little sparkle in his eyes, too. "You _do_ know Grunt! This varren is dead!"

And with that, Grunt tackled Uvenk to the ground, his krogan flunkies opened fire and the battle was joined.

Finally, things were starting to slip back under Shepard's control.

~0~

* * *

 **Aralakh System**

 **SSV Normandy**

" _Mister Moreau?"_

Joker sighed. "Yes, EDI?"

" _Though Shepard has yet to return from Tuchanka, I have received a message from The Illusive Man.`_

The Flight Lieutenant rolled with his eyes at that. "Great. Does he want us to go recruit that Thresher Maw Shepard fought? Or did he find us a new ambush to fly into?"

" _I am uncertain about the Thesher Maw. However, the latter is partially right. Cerberus has intercepted a transmission from a human colony, New Campton. The Collector Cruiser was detected in its orbit."_

Against his better judgement -which told him to run away from ancient insect monsters in massive ships- Joker immediately hit the communications channel and started hailing Shepard. "Let me guess, now he wants us to investigate it?"

" _That does appear to be his motive."_

"Great. I am not risking the _Normandy_ again, you hear me? Shepard can stop all the abductions she wants, but I am not going to park next to that thing again."

" _That will not be necessary. According to the reports, the Collector Cruiser fell apart upon entering the atmosphere."_

Joker blinked a few times "Come again?"

 _~0~_

* * *

 **New Canton**

 **Batarian slave camp**

 **Local time: 18:53**

The Master Chief woke to the sound of a gunshot.

Consciousness, however, was a slight overestimation of his current state. His blurry vision slowly came into focus, but there was nothing to see except for darkness.

He struggled to stay awake and alert, but his body was not in any way proving helpful in that endeavor. He attempted to move, but his limbs didn't obey him. His legs and arms were locked in awkward, half-bended positions.

But his vision slowly cleared itself and he tried to blink away the blurriness. There was a coppery taste in his mouth and something was dripping from his chin in small droplets. Something was very wrong with his insides. They hurt, like they had been torn to pieces and put back together completely wrong. Instead of helping him stay awake, the pain seemed to lure him back to that dark state of blurriness and darkness.

He knew from experience that this was the effect of shock and that he needed to fight it.

Slowly, he started to regain his vision. The first thing he saw immediately demanded his attention; someone stood bent over him, holding some sort of tool. The distant whirring and buzzing, together with a high-pitched whine, made him realize that it was in fact a power tool.

He ignored the pain of his body and decided to undo the lockdown of his armor first. He used his direct neural interface to reboot his HUD and then disengaged the systems that caused the lock-down of the hydrostatic layer.

His shields were down. Nonresponsive. Even the alarm was gone. A blown shield generator, then.

A small groan escaped his lips as his limbs sagged, multiplying the chafing pain that was rocketing his body.

Memories of the escape from the Collector vessel slowly came back to him. Disabling the core, the narrow escape and the last stand that had culminated into the ship breaking apart.

He was alive and he had escaped. Cortana had been right on that mark-

 _Cortana_

She should have spoken to him by now.

 _Where is she?_

The Chief shifted his focus to the figure above him, which had sprung back when he had disengaged his armor's lock. It was back now, wielding that same power tool. It was attempting to open his suit? Remove a piece of his armor? Impossible. Even small arms would not put a scratch on the MJOLNIR.

But if this thing was a Collector…

They had taken Cortana from him.

 _Not again._

The Master Chief set aside his pain and fatigue and stood up. The ground underneath him spun and flickered oddly, but he ignored the garbled messages of his senses.

He reached out and grabbed the figure by its arm, pulling it closer for observation. It wore a faceplate to protect its head from its power tool. The head wasn't wide, elongated or tapered.

No Collectors.

 _Where am I?_

The figure attempted to struggle free, but he increased his grip on its arm and forced it to drop its tool. No violence, no fighting. Had the Commander found him?

The thought of Shepard having somehow come back to him filled him with a relief that lasted only seconds. As he looked around his whereabouts -a hastily-put-together shack that contained metal cages, power tools and other crude forms of equipment- it became clear to him that he was not back on the _Normandy._

He reached for the AI port in his helmet. Cortana was gone.

The realization, though predicted, rattled him. Suddenly wide awake and alert, he turned to face the creature that had found him. His mind, still sluggish, processed the snippets of information as they came to him. This was the surface of a planet. Cortana´s chip was missing. He had been found by an unknown faction.

He was about to test if his translation software still worked and address the still-struggling alien when he noticed the cages again.

Metal. No larger than one by one meters. Each one contained a human. Nude, injured, bloodied. Unmoving.

It was at that point that the Chief noticed the stench that came through his filters. It smelled like blood, feces and urine.

Convinced that he had been taken captive by Collector husks, he ripped the alien's mask from its head and moved to interrogate it.

He was not faced with the visage of a Husk or insect-like freak, but with the strange appearance of a four-eyed alien. One pair of eyes was set in wide, prominent bone sockets and the second was smaller, closer together. They were completely dark as well.

The Chief changed his grip and grabbed the creature by its throat instead.

Though he had never encountered one before, he recognized this alien as a batarian.

The alien struggled mightily, jerking at his immovable arm, kicking at his impervious armor and even tried to pull its gun out, but the Chief snatched his wrist out of the air before the alien could even touch its sidearm and increased his grip, pulverizing the bones its wrist.

The batarian screamed in agony and a dull thud could be heard from an adjacent room. It heard the noise as well, as its eyes immediately flashed to a door at the side of this shack.

He placed his hand upon the alien's sidearm, threw the alien down on the floor and ripped the gun free. He then shot the batarian twice in each leg and intercepted the second alien as it burst from the compartment, brandishing a wicked-looking knife.

The Master Chief was slow, but not slow enough to let the alien hit him. He took a step backwards to avoid the large knife, allowing the bladed edge to narrowly miss his chest. He then intercepted the weapon as the batarian stumbled from the near-miss and pulled the alien in a wrist-lock.

He effortlessly retrieved the weapon and knocked the alien to the ground, refraining from using lethal force.

They had taken humans prisoner. Locked them up like animals. Why? For what purpose? Food? No, the circumstances of their detainment were abysmal, unsanitary. Their capture had a more nefarious purpose. Target practice was unlikely. That left one option.

Slavery.

The Chief glanced inside the room. Four by four meters, a few weapon lockers stood at the walls. At the far end of the room, slumped over against a wall, lay a human female. Nude, deceased. Blood dripped from a hole in her forehead and from between her legs, mixed with a different liquid, staining the inside of her thighs.

He had awoken to the sound of a gunshot.

Disgusted, the Master Chief grabbed the knife he had taken from the batarian who had been 'busy'. It had a long, tapered point, perfect for what he had in mind.

It was too late to help these people. There was only one thought on his mind now; find Cortana, and get out of this place.

"Where is she?" He demanded, but the batarian that lay on the ground merely laughed and said nothing.

The second one was still groaning and holding his bleeding legs with his intact wrist.

Neither of them were willing to talk.

He had neither the time nor the patience for a prolonged interrogation. Secondary interrogation tactics would have to suffice.

The Master Chief grabbed the knife knelt down next to the second batarian and stabbed him in his lower right eye, slowly inching the knife inwards until the point penetrated his brain and the screaming stopped. At that exact moment he pulled the knife out and observed the distance it had taken for the insertion to become lethal.

Now he knew where to stop.

The Spartan took two large steps towards the other batarian, who was warily eyeing the bloodied knife of his partner.

"What do you want?" he demanded.

He grabbed the alien by his throat and pulled him to his feet, slamming his body against the wall. "Where is she?"

"I -I don't know what you are talking about!"

The Chief blinded the batarian's upper left eye, making sure not the pass the lethal threshold and accidentally kill the alien. "There was a data chip contained within my helmet. What happened to it?"

Talking hurt, but there was no alternative here. He had to know. He had to find Cortana.

"Please! I beg you! He will kill me if I talk!"

Wrong answer. The Chief lashed out again, claiming the upper right eye. It wasn't his job to make things suffer. He had always deemed methods like these despicable, but the alien was making this very hard.

"I will do worse if you don't talk," growled the Chief. "The chip."

The batarian was whimpering and sobbing, but managed to recollect himself long enough to say, "…Other camps…t-the other camps! T-techs took it! Y-you'll find it there! You ha-have to believe me!"

The Master Chief did. He broke the batarian's neck and dropped its bleeding corpse on the ground.

He was alive. Cortana was gone. Taken by batarian slavers to a different camp. There were human prisoners, but these ones bore marks of either torture or experimentation. They were dead. The Collectors were nowhere to be seen. The logical conclusion was that he had ended up on a human colony in the middle of a slaver raid.

Find Cortana. It was the only thing that mattered now.

The Master Chief paused to pick up the heavy pistol and several thermal clips and then moved out.

 _~0~_

* * *

[ **SECURITY ACCESS GRANTED. UNSC TECHNOLOGICAL INFORMATION CODEX UNLOCKED]**

 **SUBJECT: M52Z BODY ARMOR**

 _The M52B Body Armor is the latest personal armor system in use by the United Nations Space Command, first adopted in 2553. The basic M52Z is worn over the UNSC main BDU and incorporates chest, back, side, and groin protection, with additional collar, upper arm, and upper leg protectors available as required._

 _The new armor system, derived from previous breakthroughs, successfully implemented the alloys found in Unggoy carapaces, Sangheili suits and Mgalekgolo plates. The M52Z's protection system is based on a multi-layer system. The first layer consists of thin Titanium-A that provides some heat resistance against plasma weapons. It is also designed to abrade after being struck, the fragments interfering with laser or particle beams or plasma bolts, weakening their effectiveness._

 _The second layer is a thin sheet of boron carbide, which comes with a very effective resistance against bullets and a high melting point, further boosting protection against heat-based weapons. This layer of boron carbide is backed by a thicker layer of an experimental composite armor composed from Covenant alloys found in vehicular armor. Informally dubbed BEHEMOTH armor, the ceramics used offer superior resistance to both plasma as kinetic weapons._

 _The hardness of the tiles causes a "shatter gap" effect: a higher velocity will, within a certain velocity range, not lead to a deeper penetration but destroy the projectile itself instead._

 _After the Battle of Installation 00, Hannibal Weapon Systems acquired production rights for the M52Z Body Armor, and has started mass-producing them._


	11. Chapter 11: the Demon and the Angel

Chapter 11, in which both the Chief as Shepard cut loose.

~0~

* * *

" _For the past few weeks, I have been gathering information on the strange readings found beyond the Terminus Systems. Gravitational anomalies, radiation bursts of unknown origin, energy readings…the source of the thousands of individual measurements all have one thing in common: they originate from the uncharted space beyond the Terminus Systems. I spoke to a close friend of mine, Jondum Bau, who suggested that this section of space might not be as impossible to reach as I previously thought."_

 _-Commander Rentola's logbook, entry 4_

~0~

* * *

 **Citadel**

 **Presidium**

 **Councilor Chambers**

Councilor Tevos was staring out the window, nervously fidgeting with her hands. Every now and then she would check the time, realize that she still had a few minutes, then look back at the window. There wasn't anything of particular interest to see, but it kept her distracted from the dreaded meeting

When the asari Councilor checked the time for the fifth time, she suddenly heard the double set of doors that led to her administrator´s room open.

No words could be heard in the few moments it took the ´visitors´ to walk past the administrator´s office and straight into Tevos´ room.

Not wanting to appear incompetent at a critical time, Tevos quickly called, "The door is open," two mere seconds before it actually did slide open."

The Councilor swallowed a lump in her throat and tried to make herself appear regal and self-assured, but upon seeing the appearance of the visitor, her breath hitched in her throat and she was unable to convey a proper welcome.

"Ah, Councilor," said the Matriarch as she strode into the office. She wore elegant red robes, of the same dark shade as the two Justicars that followed behind her. Though they were most definitely _not_ clad in robes. She gave Tevos a slight but disarmingly-warm smile and then joined her at the window, not even giving her a chance to find a more comfortable position.

"A-Amalya," the Councilor said, hating how stuttering she sounded. "What brings you to my office?"

"You know full well what brings me to your office, Councilor."

Tevos winced at the accusatory tone, however slight that may have been. "I am afraid that the last message I retrieved scheduled our appointment somewhat…later this week."

"Oh?" replied the Matriarch. She beckoned at one of the Justicars, who nodded and promptly walked over to Tevos and held out her hand.

The Councilor shakily extended her omni-tool and tapped a few buttons, praying to the Goddess that she had not been mistaken.

"Hmm…" the Matriarch quietly went through her messages, stopping at the most recent message.

It was the one detailing their meeting a few days from now.

"How quint," said the Matriarch. "It appears a mistake was made. Not to worry, Councilor. The blame is no to be put on you."

"I -I am glad to hear that," Tevos replied, nodding ever so slightly. Somewhere, somehow, an unfortunate individual had just had their fate sealed.

The Justicar took her place by the door again, her expression shifting not one inch.

"Now then," spoke the Matriarch. Her skin was pale, but she had matured well. Her dress could not exactly be called modest. "I had a team of our more gifted commandoes storm the derelict. The being we discovered had proven to be quite hostile when it got loose."

"It got loose?" replied Tevos. She could not fathom how a team of well-equipped soldiers were unable to contain one specific specimen.

"Of course it did," the Matriarch spoke with a rather self-assured tone, as if she was placating a child.

 _A test,_ the Councilor realized with a chill. "A-and the research team was unable to contain it?"

" _Of course."_

Tevos dared not show her shock at that callous waste of life. "Dare I ask why?"

The Matriarch gave her a curious smile. "I would not know…dare you?"

Tevos withered under the other asari's scrutinizing glare. When she looked away, the Matriarch smiled. "The abomination has proven to be most adept at the arts of the warrior. The Cyclonic Shield modifications proved useless against its strikes. The after-action reports were quite intriguing. "

The Matriarch gave her a rather cruel smile. "And what do you believe my commandoes found inside that derelict?"

Tevos nervously crossed her wrists behind her back. "The creature?"

Her smile deepened. "Indeed. Along with the first human Spectre."

The Councilor was unable to prevent a gasp from escaping her lips. _Shepard was there?_

The Matriarch appeared very bemused at that. "Oh yes. And as the abomination slaughtered the maidens, Commander Shepard handily dispatched of the Lieutenant I had personally assigned for that test."

"You have my most sincere condolences…wait, test, you say?"

The Matriarch turned towards the window and glanced down. "Such a lovely office they assigned you…yes, test. You see, Lieutenant Manah had proven to be most incompetent as of lately. I dislike my associates showing incompetence."

Tevos was desperate to change the subject back to the creature. "And this being…it defeated your commando lance?"

"Indeed…the abomination proved itself most capable. It killed the science team and the official escort assigned to it, as well as the response team when the reports stopped coming. And then the first human Spectre had to go and recruit the creature… a grave insult to the Asari Republics."

The Councilor nodded, seeing where the Matriarch was going. "A most grave insult."

"Unfortunately, your specific jurisdiction is limited to Council Space."

"It is."

"Apprehending the Commander would be difficult, as the Terminus Systems lie far outside Citadel jurisdiction."

"What would you have me do?" said Tevos.

"How pro-active of you…"

The threat of that terrifying creature the Matriarch had taken with her during their first meeting was still fresh in the Councilor's memories. How could she not be pro-active, when faced with such a monster?

"It would be difficult to accuse anyone outside the Citadel. However, if Commander Shepard were to bring her crew to the Citadel and, say, bring the abomination with her…"

The Councilor nodded. "I…even of an incident were arranged, the Alliance could not be blamed. She appears to have sided with Cerberus, a rogue human faction."

"Not to worry," said the Matriarch. "I shall take care of the political strings. You do what I require you to do, Tevos."

"Of…of course, Matriarch."

The Matriarch smiled and then touched Tevos' check with a cold, but gentle hand. "I knew I could depend on your assistance."

~0~

* * *

 **New Canton**

Alice was holding both of her hands in front of her mouth, desperate to make as little noise as possible. Her breath came in short, rushed gasps as her tiny lungs struggled to replace the breath that her frantic, horrifying escape into the forest had cost her.

The devils were everywhere! They were attacking every house, every building and every person they saw! Neighbors, friends and family -all of them were attacked and then kidnapped by the monsters.

She wanted to help, she really did! She wanted to run out there and scream at the devils to stop, to beat them with branches and throw rocks at them until they ran away…but she was scared of their dogs. Massive, savage-looking monsters with large eyes and enormous teeth. The monsters growled and barked at everything that looked and twice now they had found out that Alice had been hiding nearby. The devils would tug at their chains and beat them with their weapons until they stopped growling, but that had been enough to chase her away.

And now the devils _knew_ that someone was hiding, because they were panning through the bushes and the trees, searching for her!

"Come out," one of them yelled with his heavy, gravelly voice. "We know you're there!"

 _Oh Gods…_

Another one joined the first. "If you show yourself, we promise we won't kill you!"

 _Lier!_

She had seen them kill people! They shot someone in the face and then left their body for the monsters to eat. She had not stuck around to watch, but even thinking about that made her nauseous.

The two devils were joined by another two. The two pairs started spreading out, whacking bushes with their guns and checking out trees. One of them held a large animal by an iron chain.

 _A monster_ , Alice realized with a shock. Those beasts looked like dogs, so they could sniff like dogs and dogs always found what they were looking for!

She had to run, but where? Where could she hide? And they would only capture her if she tried to run.

No…running was a very bad idea. She was hungry and thirsty and dead tired. Her legs were already wobbling and these devils looked really tough. They would catch her in no time.

So Alice stayed put. She lowered her head and laid down on the grass, hiding in the thorny bushes where the monsters wouldn't want to stick their noses. Her parents had told her to run and hide, but she was done running. She couldn't set another step!

So hiding it would be.

It was the tensest, scariest moment in her life. For many minutes she could hear the devils scurry around the forest, searching everywhere for her. They climbed up trees, they kicked at fallen logs and at one point, one devil even shot his weapon at something that moved in the distance. An animal, small and just as frightened as she was.

Alice covered her face with her hands and just…waited. Waited for what felt like hours in the thorny, thick scrubs. It had been like this for the better part of the day; constantly playing a dangerous game of hide-and-seek with the devils, never revealing herself to them because if she made even _one_ mistake, they would take her.

Eventually, she was starting to feel cold. Very cold. She hadn't felt it during the running and the hiding, because the tension and fear kept her warm, but now she was starting to shiver.

She wanted to cry for her parents to come safe her, but even that was impossible. The devils would hear her, the monsters would come for her.

She wanted to ask for help, but there was nobody around.

She wanted to beg for food, but the only thing she could eat were the yellow berries that grew on some of the bushes.

She wanted to feel the arms of her mother around her, but everybody she knew was gone.

She was alone.

It was night now. It had been for a long time. When was the sun coming up? She couldn't even see the stars…

Tears dropped down from between her hands as Alice broke down sobbing. Her mind spun up all sorts of fantasies about soldiers and knights and heroes coming to save her and everybody she knew. Fantasies of her father finding her in the forest, accompanied by her mother, telling her that she was safe…

Before long, Alice had cried herself to sleep.

~0~

* * *

Unseen by anyone in the cover of the night, the Master Chief exited the impromptu bunker made out of small shacks and metal huts and stepped onto the surface of the colony, crushing grass and leaves underneath his boots. In his right hand he held a newly-acquired, albeit empty weapon, while he carried a sturdy-looking radio in his left hand, still receiving.

" _Hello? Anyone read me? Damnit Celak, if you are there, answer me!"_

He attempted to reboot his shield generator for the third time, with about the same about of results as the previous two times. The voice on the other side of the radio, meanwhile, didn't seem to understand that it would not receive a reply anymore. Celak, along with five other batarians, had shed human blood for the last time.

" _Damnit, the Captain's going to gut you if you don't report, you know that!"_

Grenades, rifles, shotguns and even crude melee weapons. These slavers were organized and well-equipped.

" _I -argh, never mind. if you somehow managed to break the radio again and can't transmit, here's what you still need to do in your sector…"_

But not well-equipped enough to stop him. He had torn through their outpost, slaughtered every single batarian in his way, but he found no trace of Cortana.

" _…make sure that there aren't any unwanted visitors near your side of the crash site…"_

Plenty of cages though. Most of them empty. He didn't know how to feel about that.

The fight to reach the top had been somewhat slow, but once he had actually breached the bunker, it had been quick and brutal. Blood coated his right arm and chest from the various close-quarters tricks he had pulled to make the most use out of his pistol, which he had quickly complemented with a weapon that he had very quickly identified as a shotgun. It had a light-brown camo pattern, a black, stocky grip and a compact design. A word had been painted at its side.

 _M-23_

It was built for thermal clips, of which he had found a small supply. He had stuffed them in the only duffel bag that had not been torn away from his suit after his landing.

" _…don't need their valuables anymore. Check for rings, jewelry, piercings…"_

The Chief felt a twinge of pain in his chest with every breath he took, lancing through his ribs and reaching down to his stomach. He could ignore it, but it was only one of multiple accumulated injuries on his body. A fractured finger at his left hand. A torn muscle near his right ankle. A mild concussion.

Those were the small ones. They merely hindered his progress, as opposed to posing a serious threat, as the more serious injuries did. The pain in his chest and stomach was more difficult, and indicative of graver wounds. He couldn't tell if his ribs were cracked or if the muscles attached to them had been torn. The pain in his stomach, however, worried him somewhat. He had a canister of biofoam attached to his suit still, which he would need if he started feeling the telltale signs of internal bleeding, but it had not survived the fall either.

" _…burn the clothes later and keep the valuables in a locker…"_

The canister was cracked and its contents had long since spilled out.

The Spartan made his way past the various scattered crates and supply drops at the front of the camp and walked towards the top of the hill it had been built on. From there, he had an unobstructed view at the heart of the colony, resting in the middle of a massive forest. He spotted tall buildings, cranes, storage facilities and other industrial structures. A thriving, working colony, with no clear signs of a present military organization.

"… _remember to check back with the_ Deliverance _if you need more cages."_

And that was the extent of the peaceful, human colony he had crash-landed on. The extent of a small, simple community, so mercilessly torn apart by creatures driven by desire and desire alone. In the distance, small ships were flying over and past the industrial zone and the surrounding patches of forest like swarms of angry bees, no doubt carrying the kidnapped civilians.

 _Slave labor._

" _…keep some females fresh. Captain's going to want to have some fun too."_

The Master Chief refrained from responding to that particular sentence. He had seen the handiwork of their men; the first victims had died without reason, in pain and without basic human dignity. He had been much too late to do anything for them but close their eyes and put an end to further defilement.

Instead, he crushed the radio in an unyielding gauntlet and discarded it. He flicked open the port for the shotgun, which had overheated during the brief moments of combat, after firing a mere two shots. He inserted a new heat sink and glanced back at the heart of the colony.

 _Where are you?_ He had failed to keep her safe. She had needed him to protect her and he had failed to rouse.

The slavers were here for humans. They had not expected the Collector ship, though they had still set up checkpoints and outposts everywhere. It implied they were staying. Depending on salvage for additional money. An advanced AI would have been too valuable to pass up on.

The Chief wondered how long this planet had been besieged like this. Days perhaps. Why had nobody come to its aid yet? Was it like the UNSC colonies, spread too far to coordinate an effective resistance within a few days? But the Mass Relays were meant to overcome that problem. Ships could travel hundreds of lightyears in an instant. So where was the support? The counter-attack?

Had the slavers cut all communications before they struck? If so, there had to be a way to establish contact, get help for these people before the batarians took them.

One way or the other, he was getting Cortana back.

The Spartan turned towards his right and moved out. Clearing out the camps around the perimeter of the industrial zone meant cutting off potential batarian reinforcements, as well as a high chance at finding Cortana. That alien had told him the truth, he was sure of it. Though humanity had never had to worry about slavery with the Covenant -the SOB's were more concerned with wiping them from existence- he was still convinced that a petty slaver would value his own life above all else. When faced with a credible threat, those looking for easy profit would always buckle.

In the dead of night, the forest proved to be the perfect place for a Spartan to inhabit. The trees were large, tall and easy to climb and the bushes were thick and widespread.

John moved silently through the forest, darting from tree to tree to avoid any batarian surprises. In the cover of the night, shrouded in the shadows, the occasional flash of green armor went unseen even by those with the keenest sight. The thick foliage blotted out the faint light of the stars, but he could see clearly.

For ten minutes he marched through the huge forest that encircled the colony, avoiding the sight of small shuttles as they swept overhead, searching for any stragglers with bright searchlights, until he finally made contact with the enemy.

The Chief dropped to one knee, melted into the shadow of a tree and froze.

Four batarians and two alien life forms he did not recognize. Large, reptilian wolves with large, round eyes and long, dagger-like teeth.

They hadn´t spotted him.

Though battered and damaged, his MJOLNIR still easily caught what the aliens were saying and the translation software integrated into his still-functioning omni-tool translated what they said.

"…Keep finding runners. The initial attack caught them off-guard, but the damned apes are hard to catch."

"Don't worry. The varren are trained to sniff them out. Let them run; it's more fun that way."

The third alien only laughed and patted the back of one of the 'varren', which growled with delight.

The Master Chief snorted in disgust. Alien cruelty of a different level.

Gone was the murderous wish to see mankind burn, only to be replaced by an even more perverse desire to use them like property, merchandise and other, darker sources of pleasure. Everywhere he went, mankind was hounded by aliens.

Some things never changed.

He saw a small amber light flicker on his heads-up display. His biomonitor indicated an elevation in his blood-pressure and heart rate.

Spartans rarely allowed their emotions to affect them. To be stricken like this, even if it was purely biological, was a sign that he was approaching his physical limits.

The Chief tried to control the almost imperceptible tremor in his hands and continued observing the hostiles.

Though the second varren seemed aware that something was amiss, it didn't do much more than faintly growl at its surroundings. It sniffed, averted its head, then let loose a soft whine that went unheard by the laughing aliens.

Eventually the trio split up. One handler took the two varren, while the other pair wandered away.

 _Time to go work,_ the Chief grimly thought. He knew that the dog-like aliens would alert the batarians to his presence, so they would need to go first.

He scooped up a small rock and pocketed it. Then he threw a second one ahead of the alien's path, right in the middle of a piece of shrubbery.

As predicted, the sudden rustling sound got the alien's attention and it started making its way to the origin of the sound. The two varren started growling and hissing, making quite a scene for a small diversion.

The Chief didn't complain. He slowly made his way towards the three aliens, making absolutely no sound as he unsheathed his combat knife.

The first varren made a faint whining sound as the razor-sharp blade pierces its head. He immediately withdrew his knife and threw the rock at the batarian's head. It whizzed through the air and impacted on the slaver's head with a wet crack, bypassing the kinetic barriers completely. Even as the alien uttered a low garbling growl and fell to the ground, the Chief dispatched of the second varren in the same way he had with the first one.

With those hostiles neutralized, he was free to get creative with the remaining two.

He never got that far however. He was about to move to eliminate the remaining batarians when he ran into a snag, and a serious one to boot.

"Crap! Darak's dead-man just activated!" One of the batarians snapped. Both of them spun around and the Chief barely had the time to conceal himself behind a tree when the two charged back to the position where they had last seen their comrades.

"We've got hostiles in the vicinity!" The other one shouted. "Get word to Captain Gor'vak!"

The Chief, not knowing what a dead-man was supposed to be, knew that he would be compromised if that batarian was allowed to call alarm. He whirled around the tree and opened fire with his shotgun, sending a hail of metal downrange that cut through the shields of one slaver, but failed to drop him. He had to wait until the weapon cooled down, then managed to nail the batarian while his shields were down.

The other one cursed and scrambled to take cover, but the Chief closed in on him with three thundering steps and slammed the butt of his weapon against the alien's face, bypassing his kinetic barriers and cracking his skull.

Too late. Even as the dead body of the other batarian fell to the ground, the alarm had been sent. Seconds later, someone launched a flare into the sky, illuminating a large section of the forest.

The Master Chief cursed under his breath and quickly inserted another thermal clip into his weapon. How the hell had those batarians known that their rear guard had been flatlined? Some kind of shared health monitor?

Now that he was compromised, he had to move quickly. He picked up the pace, stopping only to salvage one of the rifles that the batarians had been carrying. It had a slim handle, a bulbous front and an integrated scope. This one had an identification code on its side too: M8

The Chief found that these weapons were lighter than the MA5 series. However, the shotgun had lacked the punch necessary to punch through the batarian shields. Shields that, had he used his own shotgun, would have been of no consequence to him.

As he made his way through the forest, staying away from sections that were illuminated with bright flares, more of those ships started searching around the area. Their large floodlight bathed sections of the forest in a white-blue light and made it hard for him to stay hidden.

The batarians had occupied this colony in force. The Chief counted at least four of the shuttle-like ships in the time-span of half an hour and each one seemed large enough to fit an entire fireteam onboard. He would not be engaging such invasion forces on his own in a frontal assault.

That did not leave him without options. He had faced worse odds before and he had always prevailed. The key lay in employing guerrilla warfare, striking the enemies in hit-and-run attacks. Once he retrieved Cortana though, she could repair his shield system and there would be hell to pay.

Will-043 believed in the concept of 'the pain repaid'. Throughout the war, he had consistently hunted down and gutted the more savage individuals among the Covenant. John had always thought those actions to be wasteful and useless; after all, it was not their job to hurt things.

He had to know what it was that alerted the batarians to the deaths of their comrades. So when he next encountered a squad of the alien slavers, he employed stealth tactics to separate and eliminate them.

He took out the first one when a batarian with a light skin pattern and red armor hurried to search a pair of bushes. The aien had, after all, heard something move in there.

It must have come as a surprise to the alien then when he accidentally triggered a booby-trap consisting out a large branch with punji sticks attached to them, slamming into his face. The sharpened spikes simply bypassed the alien's shields and lodged themselves into his face.

The Master Chief had never believed in repaying the pain. But here, after having witnessed crimes that even the Covenant had not committed? He no longer saw a reason to treat the enemy with the same clean and efficient courtesy that they so blatantly refused to show to these colonists.

The trap did not kill him, but it served its purpose. Before the batarian had a chance to scream, the Master Chief burst from behind the trap, the color of his MJOLNIR having perfectly concealed him. He grabbed the alien´s head and wrenched it sideways, breaking its neck.

Almost immediately, two other slavers rushed to his side, leaving their other two comrades to guard their flank.

No sound to give him away. So they were outfitted with tech that alerted the rest of their squad to their presence upon death? Interesting.

The Spartan vacated that position before he could be discovered, making his way to his alternate location.

From there, he could keep a close eye on the two batarians that had been left behind. They were alerted to the death of their squadmate, there was no doubt there. It must have been the dead-man he had heard them mention before.

Clever bastards.

But he was patient. Before soon, one of the slavers strode too far from his companion, running past the wrong tree as he tried to get a bearing on this invisible foe that haunted them.

The Chief dropped down from the top of the tree, landed on top of the unfortunate batarian and rolled with his momentum, his sidearm aimed at the other batarian's face.

Gunshots were hard to ignore and the two batarians that were trying to determine how their comrade had died came running.

By then, it was far too late to do anything and the Spartan fell upon them as well.

~0~

* * *

 **Normandy SR-2**

 **Communications Room**

" _Fell apart?"_ Jane nearly shouted, a notion which did not seem to escape the Man.

" _Yes, Commander. I am not deaf. New Canton registered the arrival of at least four military-grade Frigates. The Ensign manning the Communications outpost reported that they were bombing what little military infrastructure they had, before ceasing all communications."_

The Commander calmed herself by crossing her arms, feeling a Biotic pulse ripple through her nerves. She couldn't help it; every time she Biotically overexerted herself, her L5X implants decided that the best course of action to counter the strain would be random spasms and signals. She could suppress it, but it was very annoying.

She still remembered the time she had accidentally lifted Joker from his seat. Poor Jeff had spent the rest of the day carefully avoiding her wherever he went.

"Well, tell me this then, Timmy-"

" _That is not my name, Commander, and you know that."_

"Yeah?" Jane pointed at the Illusive hologram. "Until _you_ tell me your name, _I_ will call you by your nickname. The crew likes it too."

" _I -what did you say?"_

"That you never told me your name?"

" _No, that other part. Your crew knows what you refer me to as?"_

The Commander blinked. She wasn't seeing his point. "Yes? I give all of my teammates nicknames. Some of them don't like theirs, but-"

" _Commander, as much as you flatter me, I am not a part of your team.`_

Jane smirked. "Sure you are. I help you with your missions, you help me on mine. You give me information, I bark orders at you and give you a headache."

" _That-"_

 _"_ That is teamwork, Tim. It´s part of the course."

The Cerberus leader shook his head and took a whiff of his cigarette. Jane had always wondered why he didn't just pop a real cigar; men in positions of power usually liked those. " _I wish it were that easy, Shepard. Unfortunately, a position like mine does not allow for such…bonds._ "

Jane shrugged. "Well, with Miranda and Garrus here, I know that Joker can accidentally space me without compromising the chain of command. It helps having people around you can depend on. Funny…I thought having all sorts of friends would ultimately pay off for someone like you. Oh well."

The Illusive Man fell silent as he digested her words. He looked somewhat stricken.

But the Commander wanted to know things and he was her go-to man for knowing things. Apart from Mordin of course. "So how do we know that the Collector Ship went down in flames if you lost all contact?"

The Illusive Man was staring at a point behind Shepard, seemingly lost in thoughts.

"Tim?"

" _…I am sorry, I got…distracted. We know this because the outpost kept transmitting the automatic logging system. A ship matching the profile of the Collector Cruiser entered the atmosphere roughly an hour after all manual communications ceased. Then, it reported that the ship was gone. In its place was a collection of scrap, debris and broken hull, as well as sporadic Element Zero clouds."_

"How do we know those Frigates didn't take it out? We know they're hostile."

" _Unlikely. The Collectors are working for the Reapers. Their ship-building skills are much more advanced than what we can currently do. I do not see four Frigates taking out that ship without taking heavy casualties."_

"And New Cantonon doesn't exactly stick heavy ordnance on its surface…"

The Commander felt a sudden well of hope. A flash of happiness, pure and undiluted. Internal sabotage? Had the Master Chief someone defied all odds and sabotaged the ship so heavily that it broke apart in orbit?

If so…she would make sure he would receive a post-humorous Star of Terra for his action.

Still…he had been a hell of a soldier, but nobody was _that_ good. "Yeah…it's hard to set up an ambush when you're made out of free-floating atoms, right? So how solid is this intel?"

The Illusive Hologram took another whiff of his cigarette. " _Shepard, Intel is my forte. It´s solid."_

"Alright then. I'll take a team and check it out. Shepard out."

With that, Jane cut the connection and allowed the table to sink back into the ground. Thoughts were jumping and bouncing through her head, some darker than others. It was difficult to believe that the Master Chief was somehow responsible for this. It might even be a completely different ship, softened up by the four Frigates so that the defensive positions of the colony might gun it down completely.

There was only one way of finding out. She activated her omni-tool and called Joker.

" _Shepard?"_

 _"_ Yeah. Can you plot a course a course to New Cantonon?"

" _Sure. We're going to check out the Collector Cruiser's crash site then?"_

"Yup. If we're lucky, it's one less thing to worry about. If not…"

" _Then we're running into another trap. 'Kay, tell Garrus to finish calibrating those guns already, would you?"_

Well, Garrus was still brooding about what had happened to him on Omega. And who could blame him, really? A member of your own team, selling you out to mercenaries and bandits, allowing them to wipe the rest of your old team out? It would have killed her if that had happened. "Give him some time. He likes calibrating."

" _Aye-aye…"_

Jane first wanted to drop by Mordin. After having given Gatagog Uvenk and his flunkies the same Grunt-treatment as the Thresher Maw had received, she had gone straight to her other ground team to verify whether the mission had been a success.

Thankfully, it had.

She had then asked Morin if he was satisfied with how the situation and turned out.

Thankfully, he was.

But she wanted to be sure. After all, Mordin's involvement with the krogan Genophage had not done him much good.

"Hey Mor'," she said as she entered the lab. As always, the old salarian stood at his desk, working on yet another project of his. "How are you holding up?"

"Good, all things considered," he replied. "Still, hard to believe Maelon willing to go that far. Should have seen it coming."

Samara had briefed Jane on all the details regarding the mission. She had been surprised too at first, just like Mordin. And then she had seen how utterly normal it was for a normal person to feel like Maelon had felt. "Well, you should have. What you two did? Modify the genophage right when the krogan were starting to adapt to it? That wasn't nice."

"Genophage," Mordin started to protest, but she wouldn't have it.

"Creating a weapon that melts the nervous systems and half the muscle tissue of every nine-hundred and ninety-nine krogan babies in a thousand is _not nice,_ " Jane then added, sterner. "You've seen what it did to them. How desperate was that female you encountered? The dead, willing test-subject? How guilty did Maelon feel, your own student and comrade-in-arms?"

Mordin opened his mouth to protest, but he rapidly processed her words and he dropped whatever it was he was going to say.

"What did you do to him, anyway?" Shepard then asked, glancing down at one of his tests on the other table.

"Reasoned he wouldn't stop. Thought only choice was to kill him."

"So you shot him?" asked Jane. She shook her head. _Another senseless casualty…_

"Would have, but Samara interfered."

At that, Jane's head snapped back up. _Samara_ of all people had stopped Mordin from executing his student? "She did?"

He was on to her surprise. "Was as shocked as you are now. Justicar code rarely allows for mercy. Yet, Samara explained Maelon now harmless. No reason to kill him."

Huh…Jane felt vaguely proud of her asari comrade. She would have never expected Samara to do something like that. "Good for her."

"Convinced me to save Maelon's research data, too. Told me-" He held up two fingers in each hand, mimicking a gesture that a certain turian Councilor was so fond of. "Shepard likes krogan. Believes curing genophage in future will unite them for good cause."

"Will unite them for good cause?" Repeated Jane. For some reason, she doubted that this was a precise quote. It didn't matter. As long as he hadn't dismissed any claims.

"Was Samara wrong?"

"No, not at all. I was just wondering where she picked that up. I never told her that."

"Did not? Curious. Must have overheard you talking with Urdnot Wrex then." He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "No matter. Mission successful."

Jane smiled and patted the old doctor on his head, right between those two horns. He sighed in exasperation and rolled with his eyes.

She them bid him farewell and made her way to the cockpit, where Joker was engaged in vicious…normal conversation with EDI? Huh. Odd.

"You don't understand," Joker then told the AI in a hushed tone. At the Skyllian Blitz, it wasn't just an act of heroism or soldier-ism."

" _Mister Moreau-"_

"I know soldier-ism isn't a word, but she makes up words as she goes along, so I can do it too."

" _Mister Moreau-"_

"All I'm saying is, maybe we should give her some time-"

"Hello Jeff," Jane said with the nicest, sweetest tone she could muster, lovingly watching the cold chills run down her pilot's spine as he recognized her voice. "You wouldn't be talking about little old me, would you?" She leant down next to him, but took care to place one hand over the edge of his seat to cut off his escape.

Joker completely flipped out, hitting half a dozen buttons in a spasming panic attack. "Shepard! Of course not! Nope, would never do that! Why would I, I never would, that's why!

" _Mister Moreau was expressing concerns about the profile of the four supposedly-hostile Frigates present at New Cantonon,"_ EDI then said, preventing Joker from digging himself a hole the likes he had never dug before. _"They are an accurate match for batarian warships."_

Jane felt her good mood quickly turn to something very, _very_ ugly. "How accurate?" she brusquely asked.

" _They are a ninety-eight point seven-six percent match."_

"Ehm…Commander, I think…Shep -Shepard!"

A burst of Biotics had escaped Jane's clutches of self-control and had neatly broken the chair in half. Joker scrambled forwards to avoid falling and nearly ended up in the chair of his co-pilot.

"Commander, wait!"

Jane didn't listen. She whirled around and returned to her quarters, where her armor and weapons were waiting.

~0~

* * *

 **New Cantonon**

 **Local time: 23:49**

His group had been patrolling the perimeter of outpost 4B when the news had hit. Two hours ago, humans had ambushed one of the fireteams and killed them. The brave souls had managed to contact the Captain before they perished, which had alerted the entire strike force that there were still enemy soldiers active on the colony.

And they had wept for their fallen comrades, and they had cheered that they might be able to hunt the filthy animals once more.

So their shuttles started searching around the large forest that surrounded the city, even as the _Pride of Kar'shan_ and _Trapper of Dis_ descended towards the surface to deliver an entire army to the eagerly-awaiting soldiers.

It was hardly any sport! Between the seven gunships, ten transport shuttles, four Mako's and six-hundred soldiers, they could even call down precision fire to simply annihilate the humans, just in case the bastards managed to elude them for too long.

So Folly Kral'vaas had not been very surprised when he heard that another fireteam had gone dark, just a few kilometers from their outpost. His comrades had been outraged to hear that a band of filthy humans had managed to best batarian warriors, but not Folly. He was one of the many veterans that the conflicts between the Alliance and the Hegemony had produced. He _knew_ just how dangerous humans could be.

And so did the Captain. Gor´vak had been there, at the Skyllian Blitz. He had been there when their first invading force -an army of at least eighty veteran soldiers- had been utterly destroyed by the Angel of the Blitz or, as the Captain knew the wretched creature, the Seraphim of Elysium. A spirit of unholy retribution that had ravaged their supply lines, devastated their gear and then slaughtered their troops. In a battle that had lasted an entire day, stretching into the night, the Captain had seen his entire force wiped out by a supernatural agent of destruction.

The only survivor had been a badly-injured soldier, terribly shaken by what he had seen. Gor'vak had found him near the shores of the bordering sea, where he had somehow managed to escape the wrath of the Seraphim.

" _Wings of blue…"_ he had muttered to himself over and over again. " _Wings of blue…wings of blue…`_

Gor'vak had put the insane soldier out of his misery and called the retreat. What the Captain had seen there…it had taken a part of his sanity, too. He would never admit it -and no batarian who wanted to live would confront him about it- but that day had started his obsessions with making mankind pay.

Folly was shaken out of his thoughts when one of the varren started growling, startling him. He raised his Vindicator rifle and lazily scanned his surroundings, a movement loosely mimicked by the seven other batarians in his team as they pushed deeper into the forest.

"Chaff found something," one of the soldiers eagerly said. "Can we-?"

"Release the varren!"

Folly watched as the handlers unchained their warbeasts and stepped backwards, eyeing the varren with shared eagerness.

Of the four warbeasts, only one charged into the forest. The other three sniffed the stale air, whined softly and then lay down on the ground.

What were they doing?

"Useless animals!" One handler said, stepping towards the stupid creatures and lashing out at them with an electrified whip. "There are humans! Go get them!"

It took the collective handlers several whips and a lot of coaxing, but finally the animals realized that they were worse off if they stayed, and charged into the forest as well, following the first one.

"What were they doing?" Folly asked the closest handler.

"Lazy thing probably didn't like what it smelled. I've never seen it happen myself. Hells, varren attack everything! I heard one group even attacked Geth troopers!"

Strange…why would they hesitate to charge?

Folly and the other batarians excitedly awaited the inevitable screams and gunfire, but none came. One minute passed, then two.

They didn't hear as much as a growl.

"What are they doing?"

"I don't know…I can't hear them."

One of the handlers -a large, heavily-muscled veteran, cursed loudly and then stormed after the varren, seemingly intent on giving the animals a well-needed beatdown.

Folly merely rolled with his eyes and waited until the varren realized that they had messed up. The guy would probably kick the absolute-

The soldier's dead-man went off with a sudden alarm and Folly's entire omni-tool flared red.

"Curses!" he snapped and aimed his Vindicator at the woods. All the other batarians instantly took up firing positions and Folly. "Adhamis! Can you hear me? Adhamis!"

There was no response. The dead-man worked perfect; his friend was dead.

But how? How could this be? There had been no screams, no gunshots, nothing! Absolutely nothing to indicate that an enemy lay ahead!

"Commander! What do we do?" One of the soldiers yelled.

It was the human fireteam. It had to be!

"Move forwards, standard formation. Keep it tight and fan out! They can't hide!"

The batarian Commander led his team through the forest, managing to advance about a dozen meters before the dead-man of another soldier activated.

Folly gestured for the group to stop, groaned in frustration and brought up the overlay that, as Commander of the team, only he had access to. Every batarian in this fleet had been outfitted with a dead-man, which was directly linked to their heartbeat. If the soldier died, the dead-man went off and alerted the rest of the team that one of their comrades in the vicinity had just perished.

Gavak, the only Biotic in this squad, just had his activated.

He had been their rear guard.

"Ambush!" Screamed Folly. He activated his Disrupter ammo mod and searched for anything to rip to shreds with his gun. "Take cover, set up positions!"

Those wretched humans! They were deceptive, but clever. Lure them in by killing their varren and then trigger an ambush! No doubt they had ambushed Gavak from behind, killed him in close quarters.

The team was loosely spread throughout the trees and bushes. He had three in his direct vicinity, with another two around he couldn't directly see.

"Movement!" One of his men shouted. The next second, every single batarian opened fire. They filled the air with mass accelerated slugs, firing until their weapons overheated and they were forced to eject another heat sink. As one, the squad reloaded-

-only for the dead-man of another good soldier to activate, prompting the rest of the squad towards the general direction where he had fallen.

"Truak!" One of his men shouted, abandoning his firing positions to go after his brother. "I'm coming!"

"Don't!" Shouted Folly, but it was too late. Truak's desperate brother disappeared into the darkness beyond and the rest of the team, blinded by the brightness of their discharging weapons, were unable to follow him.

"Everybody stay put!"

Alas. Soon, the soldier's brother fell as well, his dead-man triggering mere seconds after he had stupidly charged off.

It became very hard to bite back his fear; there was no gunfire, no screaming, nothing! His damned soldiers fell around him and nobody saw their attacker!"

"Stay close to me, stay tight!" Folly screamed, louder and perhaps a bit higher-pitched than he had intended to. To their unseen attacker, he shouted, "I don't know who you are, but you are dead! Our Captain traces all of us! Soon, this place will be filled with reinforcements and we'll gut you like an animal!"

It wasn't a lie. Not technically; Gor'vak _did_ trace them all via their dead-man tech and from his Frigate he could easily direct dozens of fireteams to their position. But he wouldn't send them; it was much easier to send a hail of mass accelerator rounds into the forest, clear the area around the bunker and allow the soldiers inside said bunker a much easier field of vision.

And that would only happen _after_ Folly and his fireteam had perished.

He knew that, but his men didn't. So he fought on.

There were four of them left. They fell back to a small clove in-between a series of trees, where they could cover every single approach.

At least, Folly thought they could cover every approach. It wasn't until he happened to glance at one of his comrades that he saw…he didn't know what he saw.

A thing. A massive _thing,_ looming behind one of his soldiers. It grabbed the unlucky soul by his neck and then dragged him off, straight out of their "save" zone and into the darkness that lay beyond. Into shadows, and certain death.

It happened so fast, in such a short span of time, that Folly only fired his gun at its general direction when the thing had already disappeared. Its victim screamed; a short, ragged scream that only a desperate or dying man would utter.

And then it was promptly cut off.

Folly was unable to contain his terror and rage and he screamed, firing another burst into the dark forest. He shouted profanities, cursing the monster for killing his soldiers.

It was at that point that he realized that his group had gone from victims being picked off by hostiles to prey being stalked by monsters.

One of his more religious troopers reached the same conclusion; an animalistic bellow wrenched itself from his throat and he jumped to his feet. "It's the Verusian Demon!" He screamed. "It's after our souls!"

More he did not say. He bolted; simply ran for it, ignoring all military customs and giving in to his superstitions.

Except Folly saw the reason behind his decision. The bunker was close-by; Gor'vak could not bomb them if they were alive and well within the bunker and once the Captain knew of the threat that stalked these woods, he would surely see reason.

Folly saw reason already. He lowered his gun and ran, flat-out _sprinted_ towards safety. He heard something loudly break behind him, followed by a short burst of gunfire. He did not look behind him though, not even as the dead-man within both of his remaining soldiers went off, simultaneously.

Something impacted on his left leg just as he leant his weight on it. The blow was so forceful, so unyielding, that his leg bent the wrong way. The bones within snapped and Folly screamed in agony. Half a second later, his full weight came to bear on his wounded leg, which completely collapsed.

The slaver slammed face-first against the ground and weakly groaned, knowing that his fate was sealed. Still, he would not go quietly into the night. He attempted to grab his sidearm, but something massive and solid slammed into his arm and the pistol fell from his fingers.

"Please," he grunted as he propped himself up with his arms, turning himself on his back. "Please! Stop!"

He caught the outline of something massive. A tall, shadowy demon. A behemoth, the Verusian Demon indeed.

The creature placed a heavy boot on his face, pushing him deeper against the ground.

Was this a human spirit of vengeance? An entity like the Seraphim of Elysium?

"Where is your outpost," it growled at him. No, _demanded_ of him. Its voice was heavy, gravelly and very distorted. Folly was certain now; this was an agent of retribution, summoned by the humans in retaliation.

Folly couldn't betray his comrades, but he wanted to live.

Spirits, he wanted to live! "Argh…up ahead…deeper into the forest…" he gestured with his arm. "That way. Please…mercy…"

The Verusian Demon removed that heavy hoof of his and took aim at the slaver's head with a heavy pistol.

"No, wait!"

The weapon discharged.

~0~

* * *

There was a loud sound, like something breaking, very close to her head, and she woke with a start.

 _Mommy? Is that you?_

She wasn't aware of what it was at first. It sure sounded loud, and close. Where was she even? There were leaves and thorny branches and the ground as all wet and dirty…

Alice was just barely starting to wake up when all of a sudden something big and horrible stuck its head through the foliage. It was a monstrous dog with a head so large that it could easily swallow hers. It wrestled through the thick foliage and then loudly growled at her, filling her with dread.

An unstoppable desire to scream made itself her master and she did just that; she screamed at the top of her lungs, even as one of the creature's teeth raked her across her face, scraping her cheek. Droplets of blood fell to the ground as she desperately tried to back away, getting hopelessly entangled in the thorns in the progress.

"Over here! I found another!"

She heard voices, loud and evil. Large hands clad in metal gauntlets reached through the leaves and branches and grabbed a hold of her arm. "No!" She screamed, terrified out of her mind. She slammed a tiny fist against the large hand, but it was hard and tough and she only hurt herself. "No! Let go of me! Mommy! MOMMY!"

Nobody came for her. The alien roughly jerked her out of the bushes she had been lying in, not even caring that her hair and her clothes got snagged on the pointy thorns. They didn't care that she was bleeding and crying, only that she was screaming, because one of them struck her across her face.

White spots and stars exploded before her eyes and things went blurry after that. It hurt, too, but not as bad as the cuts did. Her cheek was still bleeding from where the monster had bitten at her.

Alice felt the alien roughly pull her over his shoulder, carrying her away from her hiding spot. She moaned and wiped her hair away from her eyes, watching the ground move underneath her. They were taking her away! They were going to take her to their lair and she would never see the stars again!

The thought filled her with a desperation she had never felt before, and which she never wanted to feel again. She tried to wiggle free, slamming her fists against the back of the devil's neck. It didn't take her long to realize that she couldn't hurt him; his clothes were very hard, just like his metal gauntlets. She might as well be hitting a wall.

That made it worse. The alien carried her through the woods, talking loudly and happily to some of the other devils. Alice couldn't do anything but silently beg whoever was listening to help her, to save her. To take her away from the monsters and give her back to her parents.

When the devils reached their lair -an ugly building made out of metal and stone and trash- she knew that it was useless. There wouldn't be anyone. No knight in shining armor, no angels to take mercy on her. She was utterly alone and utterly terrified.

That terror quickly turned into something much worse when the devils actually entered their lair -when she actually saw what it was that they were doing there.

There were cages with people in them. Some of them children, some of them very old and brittle. Some of them were bleeding, but some of them weren't even moving. They were sleeping, like she had been.

But that wasn't what made her feel so horrified that she wanted to puke. She saw metal beds with people lying on them, naked and obviously just as terrified as she was.

The devils were cutting into them with sharp metal, slicing through their skin and flesh and spilling blood all over the floor. The people were screaming in complete agony, writhing and trembling as the devils cut into their bodies.

At that sight, that display of cruelty and savagery, Alice came to understand that there was no escape at all. She was in a place so horrible, so evil, that she was going to die.

But she didn't want to die! She wanted to live, without pain and with her friends and family and _oh Gods make the screaming stop!_

The devil holding her laughed at her obvious horror and sudden muteness. He dropped her to the floor, hard, and immediately grabbed her by her hair and started dragging her away.

Alice was brought back to her reality by sudden lances of pain that shot through her scalp, and she involuntarily cried out in pain. She immediately tried to grab the devil´s hand to make him stop, but he didn't seem to care.

He said something to her in his own language as he lifted her to her feet, still by her hair. He wrenched her around and forced her to watch one of the other aliens put a tool to the head of a man she recognized as a shopkeeper she had seen a few weeks ago. With that tool, they made a hole into his head, which made awful, sickening noises that crunched and tore and were all wet.

Then they put something small and metal into the hole they had made, all the while the man was howling in agony.

Alice started crying again.

Nobody cared. They threw her into a filthy, metal cage and shut the door.

One by one, the devils dragged the other people out of their cages, often beating them with blue glowing sticks as they did that. They would operate on the people, who screamed and cried and begged and then slowly started sounding less and less normal.

Alice had closed her eyes, averted her face and crawled as far away from the nightmare as she could. But even with her hands covering her ears, she could still hear so much.

She dreaded the moment when her turn would come.

Time went by like a slow trickle of water. Horrible and slow, but still clear. Alice knew when her turn would come now. There were three people before her still. She hadn't looked at them. She didn't want to see who the aliens would tear apart and murder on that table.

Or whatever it was. It had to be worse than actually dying. When people were dead, they didn't feel anything bad anymore.

She didn't want to be hurt. She wanted to live, but she wanted to stay unhurt so much more. If dying meant not being hurt like the devils hurt you, dying couldn't be worse.

The first person was dragged out of his cage.

Despite herself, Alice still begged her parents to save her. Silently, in her head. In her heart. Her father was strong and her mother would do anything to help her. They wouldn't let them hurt her. They would come in and take her away and they would run, together.

The second person's turn came sometime later. It could have been a few minutes, but it could also have been an hour. It felt like an hour.

The air stunk. Like a bad, clogged toilet and blood and puke and sweat. Breathing it made her feel light in her head, but she could still feel her heart pounding.

More devils came in through the door. They took the people who had been operated and took them away. Now all that was left was Alice and the two other people.

No knights. No heroes. No parents.

Despite not wanting to, Alice saw that one of them was a woman. Old enough to be her grandmother.

Just like grandmother, she would die soon.

The last person was loudly sobbing, knowing that their time was up.

The devils came for him first. They opened the cage. He fought, like they all had. He lost, too. Just like they all had.

Then, the impossible happened. One of the aliens started screaming at the other, who immediately took a gun and aimed at the man.

Outside, something was making loud banging noises. Alice could hear screaming and loud thumping.

The devil shot the man in the face and kicked his body away. Then, with a weird look on his ugly face, he aimed at her.

Alice looked the devil in his four eyes. He was going to kill her?

Then, everything exploded. The door leapt from its heavy frame and impacted on one of the devils, knocking him to the ground as several of his bone audibly cracked. So many things happened at once that she found it hard to keep track of them.

One alien had his head explode and splattered red all over wall. The one standing next to him met the same fate at the exact same time and they fell to the ground together.

The devil aiming at Alice managed to look at the door and gasp before something hit his hand with so much strength that the weapon broke and his fingers went several directions.

One devil moved towards the entrance, but his body was flung through the room a second later, hitting the wall with a wet sound.

And then, something entered the lair and Alice gasped. It was a knight in green armor, covered with the blood of the monsters. He was massive, taller than ever her father! His face was hidden behind a dark-green helmet with a golden mask. He moved unlike anything she had seen before in her life. The dog-thing leapt at him but the Green Knight moved only the slightest bit aside and the dog flew past him and in the blink of an eye, his leg snapped out and the dog-thing was dead.

And then the lair was quiet.

Alice stared at the Green Knight, remembering fairytales from her youth. A mighty hero, sent by angels to protect the innocent against the evildoers. A story, a made-up fable for little children.

And he was _here._

The Green Knight stopped by the boy of the man who had been shot and then slowly shook his head. Next, he stopped by Alice.

He was so pretty to look at. She couldn't help it; he said something in a heavy, manly voice, but she was too busy gawking at him. That armour was the color of the forest, yet also beyond it.

The Knight reached out, grabbed the iron lock that kept the cage shut and ripped it out with one simple move. The thick metal did not oppose him at all.

Upon seeing that display of brutal strength, Alice's body moved on its own; she immediately hunkered back into the cage, instinctively seeking shelter from this massive thing. Her limbs were trembling, but she couldn't get the thought of sharp tools and naked skin out of her mind. They hung in front of her eyes and they wouldn't go away.

"I won't hurt you," said the Green Knight. He knelt down in front of the cage. Then, he reached out and offered her his hand.

His giant, armored hand, that could easily fit around her entire head. The hand that had been strong enough to rip through metal and kill devils with simple gestures.

After a few moments, it occurred to Alice that this Knight was a hero as well. He had saved her, and he might be able to save the rest. The devils had taken the people for a reason.

But she had to be sure. "Are you a knight?" she whispered.

The green giant simply nodded.

That was enough for her. The fear and exhaustion of the night finally snuck up on her and she practically fell against his armored body, tears flowing down her face as she hugged its cold, sleek plates.

He let her cry for a few moments, then touched her back and gently pried her off.

"They took my friend," he then told her. "Did you see a small, blue chip here? Did one of them carry it?"

Alice didn't know what he meant, but she also knew that she didn't need to understand it. If he had lost his friend, she would help him. If only she had seen what the devils had taken…she hadn't seen anything.

So she shook her head.

He gently wrapped a massive arm around her waist and lifted her from the ground, placing her on his back.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"Away from here," he replied.

"Will you save the others?"

He thought about her question for a few moments. "I will."

~0~

* * *

 **Normandy SR-2**

 **Combat Information Center**

 **En-route to New Cantonon**

The ship dropped out of FTL at the edge of the system, beginning its silent cruise towards the besieged world. She was sleek and silent, designed foremost for stealth. Not only were they the first Council-associated vessel in range, they were also the only Council-associated vessel in range.

Jane anxiously paced back and forth in front of the air lock, waiting until Joker gave the sign that they had reached the besieged colony. She wore her standard N7 armour, but she had foregone the SMG for something with a little more punch. The old-style automatic weapon had not suited her needs. Its rounds tore through flesh like they had been outfitted with a Shredder-ammo mod, but it took too long to reload for her fighting style.

"Shepard," said Zaeed Massani as he passed her by, taking his place beside Tali right next to the airlock.

Jane barely noticed him. She had violence on her mind; fighting, killing and slaughter. Sometimes, memories would resurface within the back of her mind. Suppressed, unwelcome, yet oddly refreshing.

Yes, the sidearm she had found within the Master Chief's vast arsenal would suit her needs. If it worked like the rest of his weapons -crude, yet overpowerdly effective- the weapon would supplement her style perfectly.

How many should she expect? More or less than Mindoir? Elysium?

What would she find down there on that planet? How many naked, tortured and broken people? How many butchered children, raped women?

"Jane!"

The voice of her quarian friend shook her out of her thoughts and she glanced at the woman.

It felt more like a leer.

"I know what you're thinking," said Tali. She had a shotgun slung over her back and a pistol attached to her holster, though the real way she could dominate the battlefield came not from her gunplay, which was nowhere near as precise or accurate as that of a soldier, but from her Tech abilities. If Jane were to succumb to give in to her inner demons just like on Elysium, having a good tech on her team would be very pleasant.

"Commander, please!"

Jane frowned, realizing that she hadn't even heard what Tali had told her after that initial opening. She must have sunk away in her thoughts again…"Yeah?"

"We don't know if these batarians are hostile. They might be responding to the Collector ship just like we are!"

"Yeah right," Zaeed replied with a snort. "Checking out on a human colony? Those slavering bastards are only keen on one thing!"

Miranda scraped her throat and pushed herself away from the console she had been leaning against. "I agree with Tali, This is a delicate situation; we should proceed with caution. This isn't another Elysium."

"The fuck?" Jack then countered, instantly clashing with the Cerberus Operative, like always. "What's Elysium got to do with this?"

"That's enough," barked Jane. "We're going in quiet, but any sign of hostility will be met with _lethal_ force. You got that, Tali?"

The quarian sighed. "Of course, Commander."

"Good."

She wanted to further lay down the rules of engagement for this operation, but Joker had found something interesting and just had to interrupt her. "Commander? You might want to look at this."

Jane, a bit conscious about having ruined his chair in heartbeat of lost control, nonetheless tried to reply in her normal voice. "What?"

It didn't quite work.

"There's a batarian Frigate in orbit, straight ahead. It almost appears powered down. Strange."

" _The batarian Frigate has yet to raise their shields,"_ EDI then chimed in. " _Furthermore, attempts at communication have failed."_

Jane rolled with her eyes. "The batarian warship in human orbit doesn't want to talk to the human warship? How strange…"

" _Negative Commander. The batarian vessel has neither rejected nor ignored communication attempts. It appears our message was blocked."_

Alright, that was new. "Blocked? How come?"

" _I am unable to discern the causation of this event at this moment. The batarian Frigate is incapable of communicating."_

"I know, right?" said Joker. He had propped up the chair from the copilot's seat to replace the one Jane had broken. "It's like they just decided that being able to send and receive was too much of a bother."

 _Something is wrong,_ the Commander realized. _A batarian ship that isn´t attacking or taking in slaves is useless. Something must have happened._

"Change of plan. Joker, set an intercept course to that Frigate. If it doesn't respond, we'll board it. If it does, blow it out of the air."

"Board it?" Miranda raised an eyebrow at that decision, but kept further comments to herself when Jane gave her a glare.

"Yes, board it. There's no reason for any batarian to be near a human world, especially not at the same time as a Collector ship. I want to know what they know."

"We're taking the fight to the bastards? Hah! Reminds me of that one pirate raid, back in-"

"Zaeed, not now. I need you to take point to the hangar. You're piloting the shuttle."

"Sure. Where do you want me to put it? Straight into their cockpit, I take it?"

His eagerness for this fight gave Jane reason to pause. Pause and think. She remembered Zaeed's own desire for blood and vengeance. She had been shocked by his willingness for violence, disgusted by the way he would put innocents in danger just for his own needs. It had taken her some time to make him see how faulty his actions back then in that refinery had been.

And now, he seemed to like _her_ decision to immediately declare the situation a military one. Her choice to declare the first batarian Frigate a target of opportunity seemed to fill him with approval.

For a few moments, Shepard wondered what that meant for her.

Actually, it meant that she needed to reprioritize. If there were civilians down there, she had to help them. That was clear and simple; helping to fight off the batarian attack could be done in many ways, but the dead could never again be brought back to life. Well, with one exception, perhaps.

Confused, Jane shook her head and tried to push her conflicting feelings away. A crisis of identity was the lowest of priorities right now!

No, she needed to stop thinking. Now was the time for acting; disable and, if necessary, destroy the batarian Frigate. Joker could then keep the other three from dropping supplies, providing fire support and landing more troops by engaging them in long-range combat and in the meantime, her ground team would stop the slavers dead in their tracks.

However, the team in the shuttle awaited her decision nonetheless and as the Normandy closed in on the Frigate, it became clear that the explosive action they had expected would not come.

The ship appeared utterly powered down. Even in light orbit, it appeared that the only thing that kept the ship from being pulled into the atmosphere and crashing was the Mass Effect core.

As for the rest, it just appeared …dead.

Her favorite kind.

Apart from the bleeding, torn-apart kind.

"Zaeed, park us next to the docking tube. Tali can bypass the controls and get us in."

Another flashback from Mindoir. Large clouds of yellow gas, followed by dozens of people choking and dropping, tears flowing from their bloodied eyes.

"They might use chemical attacks to ambush us. Helmets sealed."

Her teammates did as she said, with the exception of Tali, who just tapped against her visor.

Jane nodded at her. _Just another mission…_ she told herself. _Just another mission…_

Armor seals had been checked and rechecked, ammunition stores had been shared and the ship had been thoroughly checked for life-signs.

None had been detected. Whether that was a good thing or a bad thing was left unsaid.

The batarian Frigate never did anything as their shuttle docked with its main docking tube, allowing Tali to easily attempt a bypass with her omni-too-

-only for the door to effortlessly slide away, sucking what little air the docking tube contained in the telltale suction of a depressurized ship.

 _No wonder they didn´t reply,_ Jane thought with a grim sense of satisfaction. A second later, she caught the sadistic pleasure that the lack of atmosphere in the batarian vessel caused her. Not only because this might still be a trap, but also because it was _wrong_ to feel content about the agonizing deaths sapient beings would suffer in a depressurized environment.

"That was fast," Shepard told Tali through their integrated comms. "A personal record?"

" _Keelah…Shepard,"_ replied Tali, her voice sounding somewhat muffled by the radio. " _It opened before I could finish."_

 _"_ What?"

" _I barely started."_

Huh…that was odd. Batarians with special suits, lying in waiting? But why take the extra effort of faking a malfunctioning ship? Why just not fire at their shuttle?

The Commander moved deeper into the ship, the silver-white pistol at the ready. She had strapped several magazines to her waist, but the things were somewhat bulky and unwieldy compared to her regular sidearm. "Fan out, search for survivors."

This ship gave her a bad feeling. The atmosphere felt wrong, and that wasn't just because there wasn't any atmosphere to speak off. This place felt like death and anguish. It was hard to make sense of.

Doors would spontaneously open to her and her team, despite appearing locked when they approached them. Jane looked at Tali in confusion, but the quarian merely raised her shoulders and shrugged.

 _Not my doing,_ she seemed to say.

At one point, Tali and Jane encountered two doors, one of them leading deeper into the ship and one of them leading to what had to be the bridge. Several bodies lay sprawled across the ground. Batarians.

All dead.

Tali knelt by one of them and scanned him, while the Commander glanced at the door that led to the bridge. The very second she did that, the door soundlessly slid open.

Every viber of her body screamed _trap_. But she had to know what was going on here; obviously something had killed these batarians, but who?

" _Shepard…they didn´t wear protective suits. When they air was cycled out of the ship, they didn't…Keelah, what a horrible way to die."_

"Getting a chip drilled into the wrong part of your brain is worse," Jane briskly replied. "Save your sympathy for those who deserve it."

" _I…yes, Commander."_

Against her better judgement, Jane led Tali into the hallway leading directly to the bridge. Zaeed, Miranda and Jack were investigating the larger portions of the ship, like the mess hall and the barracks, where the ship would have been carrying its victims. Strangely enough, they had been allowed access there by whatever force controlled this ship.

So why deny them access to engineering? And not to the bridge?

Shepard sighed as she entered the large room where most of the crew was present still.

It quickly became clear that survivors obviously wouldn't be found. The bridge was very different from the _Normandy´s;_ it was large and spacious, easily ten by twenty meters large. The only thing that it had in common with the _Normandy_ were the ordinated, reinforced windows, which provided the crew with a pretty impressive view of the planet they were orbiting,

Or would have been a pretty view for the crew, had said crew not been very dead. They were all lying on the ground or draped across their consoles, yellow foam at their mouths. Their skin had a very unnatural color and most of them still wore the expression they had when they had perished.

One of despair and agony.

Again Jane felt a jolt of elation and again, she had to suppress it.

" _Guess we now what happened to the ship,"_ said Tali.

Shepard's attention was drawn by a console, however, and she didn't respond.

The console was the only one still active. All the others had shut down and not even the lights were active, but this console was still active. It's faint, blue light casted an odd shade on the interior of the Frigate.

Something drew Shepard in. A voice…no, multiple voices. Whispering.

This wasn't batarian doing.

 _"Shepard?"_

There was something very wrong with this place. It felt awful. Like they shouldn't be here. "Tali, we´re heading back _,"_ she told her companion. "The Normandy can blow this ship to bits."

but she didn't get to take more than a few steps before her omni-tool flashed a deep shade of blue and a female voice spoke to her through her radio, clearer than Tali's, but also completely unfamiliar to her.

" _Wait!"_

Jane spun around, scanning her surroundings with her weapon. "Did you say something?" She quickly asked.

" _No, I…I didn't hear anything. Why? Who did you hear?"_

Shepard glanced down at her omni-tool. That color did not belong there.

" _You have to help!"_

Shepard started lifting her arm, to signal her squad to focus and listen-

" _Please, don't tell the others. Not yet, they won't understand."_

" _Commander_?" said Tali. She scanned her surroundings with her shotgun, obviously not comfortable with the ship either.

Jane decided to play along. She had always been able to tell when someone was lying to her and this woman, whoever she was, sounded too genuinely distressed to be part of a trap. What was more, she had heard this voice before. On the derelict, before meeting the Master Chief. "Go ahead and meet up with Zaeed's group. We're leaving in five."

" _But-"_

"Tali," Shepard kindly said, "In the military, when an officer gives you an order, you should obey it."

" _…of course. If you aren't back in five minutes, I am getting you out."_

 _"_ Thank you. Come on now; move along."

The moment that Tali was out hearing range -and _exactly_ out of hearing range too- the voice in Shepard's helmet continued. " _Thank you. I…I didn't know what to do. They took him from me! Took him when he wouldn't wake up and -and confined me to this…this **prison!** " _She pronounced that last word with such hate and bitterness…who was she?

"I want to help you," replied Jane. She muted the comm, making sure her teammates would not be listening in on accident. When she made a promise, she kept it. "But I need to know more. Who are you? How did you contact me?" She paused. "How did you know my name?"

" _I'm sorry. I needed something he trusted, someone who would never harm him. You need to find him, you need to save him!"_

Her voice was bordering on panic and Jane responded with ingrained experience, taking steps to calm down the mysterious woman who had, if Jane´s hunch was correct, vented the atmosphere and doomed all the inhabitants of this ship. "Slow down. I'm here to help. You already know that, you know my name. Do you want to tell me yours?"

" _I…later. I will tell you everything you want to know, just please, later! They're hurting him, they're trying to kill him!"_

Jane felt her desperation as though it was hers and it became hard to stay focus. She encountered many more dead bodies as she moved through the ship, talking to this voice only she had heard. "The batarians? Who are they hurting? And where?"

" _Jo- the Chief! The Master Chief! Please Jane, you have to get him out of there!"_

 _What?_

 _"Down on the surface. They're swarming him, please, you need to hurry!"_

The Commander shook her head. "The Master Chief is dead," she said, but even as she spoke, a faint, nagging stab of doubt took a hold of her mind. Obviously something was wrong with this ship and obviously, if these batarians had been here since before Tim had given them the heads-up, something had delayed them. _A lot_. "I had to abandon him…and who are you, anyway? How do you know him? How did you get into my helmet?"

There was a brief moment during which the voice was utterly silent. The blue glow in the console however, grew more powerful.

And when the voice next spoke, Shepard forgot about that console altogether. " _My name is Cortana…I was created by the United Nations Space Command and paired with Master Chief Petty Officer Sierra one-one-seven. I am an advanced Artificial Intelligence."_

 _~0~_

* * *

 ** _Three hours ago_**

The Master Chief kicked in the last door of the small, hastily-erected bunker complex and was instantly faced with at least seven batarian Shock troopers, the last survivors of his one-Spartan assault on the outpost. They were all bunched up, concealed behind several overturned tables and concrete blocks.

So he lobbed one of the alien frag grenades in among them, then backed up out of the way, and sprayed the room with bullets. The grenade went off with a satisfying _wham!_ and body parts flew high into the air before thumping to the floor.

The aliens didn't last long under his fire and before long, the Spartan stood alone in the middle of the last batarian camp. The shacks slowly collapsed under their own weight, the metal bars that had supported them having been all but destroyed during the brief, but intense firefight.

Cortana wasn't there.

The Master Chief had spent the entire night rampaging through the woods, eliminating strike teams and clearing bunkers. He had found a few medi-kits scattered throughout the first outpost, so he had taken a quick stop to fix his canister of biofoam with omni-gel, filled it with medi-gel and then inserted the tip of the can into one of his suit's ports, fixing up some of the more grievous wounds.

The batarians had attempted to predict his movements and sent in reinforcements every single time they realized that their forces were taking losses.

Somehow, they succeeded in accurately thwarting his progress every time. They had air support, armored vehicles and more. Had he not hidden the girl -Alice- away in the industrial area of the colony, she would have perished in the hellish crossfire that the aliens kept opening up on him.

Even now, the Master Chief could already hear the faint humming of enemy air support inbound.

It didn't make sense. The several miles of forest that surrounded the industrial zone had been filled with camps and outposts, but Cortana was nowhere to be found! Yet every batarian he interrogated pointed him to the next one, always the next one…

Were they disciplined enough to make him circle around endlessly, until their reinforcements finally whittled him down?

before soon, he spotted two of the alien gunships approaching the camp. He had taken refuge in the treeline, but he only carried alien small arms. He would not be downing those birds by shooting them.

The sun had risen some time ago. His advantage of the night had disappeared. Though most of the slavers' weapons lacked the punch that Collector rifles did, their rounds merely bouncing off of or otherwise flattening against his MJOLNIR, his last encounter with a batarian gunship had left him with yet another blemish on his suit.

The Spartan would not give these vehicles a chance to fire at him again. Stay put, play safe. That was-

Plumes of exhaust appeared at the sides of the two gunships as they fired their missiles into the treeline surrounding the cleared bunker. An entire swarm of streaking explosives annihilated the cover of the forest in a large stretch around the outpost and the Chief was forced to make a run for it.

The overpressure and shockwaves of the explosions weren't so bad and his MJOLNIR protected him against the shower of shrapnel that the explosions kicked up. However, a bight flare and a sudden spike in his suit's internal temperature betrayed the true nature of the missiles.

" _Phosphorous shells!"_ screamed the pilot of the gunship. The alien craft seemed to come with a voice enhancer as well, as his deep voice boomed through the stretch of forest in which he had just raised hell. " _Run or burn, bastard!"_

The Spartan did just that. As his cover went up in flames, he broke into a flat sprint, digging in his heals with such force that the ground underneath his feet scattered. It took him three strides to build to his top-speed. His adrenaline spiked and his blood burned even as his perception of time overclocked.

He made a beeline straight for the industrial zone, where there would be sufficient cover for him to engage these ships. Behind him, the surface of the hill exploded into clouds of dirt, splintered trees and burning wood. The gunships traced a lethal path behind him, their heavy autocannons chewing through what little cover he had in instants.

The Master Chief ducked, jumped and weaved as he sprinted down the hill, avoiding rocks, logs and gunfire. Up ahead he saw a large collection of pipes and old warehouses, with ample cover and good positions. It had to do.

Even as the gunships came closer and closer to hitting him, he came closer and closer to finding cover and just as the bullets were starting to nip at his heels, he flung himself through a wall into one of the warehouses. He smashed through the brick wall like an armored missile and immediately scampered back to his feet and hid behind one of the crates.

Wasting no time, the Spartan unsheathed his combat knife and immediately moved up through the various catwalks and boxes in the empty warehouse, making his way to the piping.

The first gunship noticed him and came in close for a strafing run, having used all of its missiles to flush him out.

The Chief allowed it to close in on him and then leapt away at the last moment, propelling himself multiple meters in the air with his powerful muscles, augmented by the force circuits in his MJOLNIR.

As the gunship turned around for another pass, suddenly shuddered and tilted, unbalanced. The Master Chief had managed to grab the side of the VTOL's left wing as it passed him by and was now hanging away some distance from his intended target, the cockpit.

Slowly, the Spartan started to claw his way towards the vulnerable side of the gunship, even as the second VTOL located its partner and opened fire, intent on shooting the Chief off.

The pilot of the second gunship merely succeeded in blowing out the gunship's engine. The VTOL started spinning out of control, but its pilot could have saved the bird the bird from going down.

Of course, John had other plans. He slammed his knife into the metal frame right where the armor transitioned into the transparent sheath of glass. With a solid grip, he ripped the plate out, exposing the pilot.

Not about to waste any time on a bird that was falling from the sky, the Chief merely stabbed the pilot in his head and then leapt off, abandoning the spiraling gunship before it could take him with it.

In the resulting chaos, as the smoking wreckage smashed into one of the buildings, the Spartan disengaged and fell back to the cellar where he had told the girl to hide.

Alice…he had failed to find the people she had described as her parents. He had failed to find any people. The slavers must have moved them somewhere else, along with Cortana. They had taken the tortured, surgically-mutilated humans away in their shuttles. It had to be one of those transport ships in orbit.

Jacking one of them was the best option.

The Chief easily disentangled the heavy chains he had draped across the locks, knocked two times on the wooden doors to the cellar and then dropped down. He still checked the room for any hostiles, as it never hurt to check.

Once he was certain that he was in the clear, he lowered his weapon. "I'm back," he called.

Alice, having recognized both his voice as his way of knocking, stuck her little head out from the table she was hiding under. "Did you find them, mister?"

She sounded hopeful. He had told her not to be hopeful.

"No," he replied. "The aliens took them away."

A look of disappointment and sorrow crossed her features and she looked away. Then, as a new thought seemed to pop into her head, she lit up again. "But you can save them, can't you, mister Knight?"

She kept calling him that. Even when he had escorted her through the forest, where they had encountered the first batarian armored convoy. They had remained hidden as the two infantry fighting vehicles rolled by, oddly dubbed 'dragons' by the girl. There, the Chief had quickly and silently dispatched of the vanguard to lure them convoy away, after which her awe in him had been firmly cemented.

The Master Chief knelt down next to her and glanced at the girl. Her clothes were dirty and torn, she had gathered enough cuts and bruises to rival an ODST fresh out of his pod and she had dark rings around her eyes, a clear sign of exhaustion. She was barely old enough to go to school

She was also a liability.

Fighting an entire invasion force while babysitting a civilian was not ideal. In fact, it was about as far away from ideal as possible. He could engage enemies like these with hit-and-run tactics, staying on the move and striking from the shadows. However, guarding a fixed position would ruin that strategy.

He could either leave her here and risk the batarians finding her, or he could take her with him and severely handicap his movements. Again, protecting a civilian -a child even- was the last thing he wanted when he was outnumbered, outgunned and wounded.

However, being unable to protect the many thousands of colonists the Collectors had abducted from their homes, from their loved ones…it suited him very ill. Spartans always succeeded in their missions, or they would die trying. And here he was, alive because he had sentenced thousands to a certain death.

The Collectors would have killed them regardless.

The best course of action would be to ditch the girl.

He wouldn't. He was going to save her, regardless the risks. It was something that Captain Keyes would have done.

Something Avery would have done.

Probably.

"I'll keep searching," he told the girl. "But not with you. I'm going to find a ship, fly us to a bigger ship. From there, the Alliance will protect you."

"Are you leaving?" She asked.

The Chief, realizing he had just attempted to clarify his next tactical decision to what amounted to a six-year old, inwardly sighed and decided to try something else. If only Cortana were here…"The aliens took your people off this planet. I'm going to pursue them. Alone."

"I get it," the girl cheerfully said. "Girls can't be Knights."

At that, the Chief had to suppress a chuckle. Someone ought to tell that to Linda, or Kelly.

If they were still alive, at least.

"I can't save your people and protect you at the same time," he explained. "Someone else needs to protect you."

The girl pouted. "But someone else can't do that. They're all dead."

Hearing those words from a child was nothing new. He had encountered plenty of war-orphans during the war. But somehow, he hoped that it would have been different in this part of the universe. "I know."

What was he supposed to tell her? That he was sorry a bunch of slavering aliens had invaded her home? That the bastards had been looking for money and slaves and, in order to get that, her family had to die?

What child would want to hear that?

"But you're alive," he pointed out. "How did you escape?"

The girl looked away. For some reason, she didn't want to look at him as she recalled the details of her harrowing escape. It involved hiding from patrols, running from those war-dogs and taking shelter in thorny bushes to avoid the 'metal dragons' as they soared overhead.

The Chief was somewhat impressed by her resourcefulness; surviving a complete night in the middle of a batarian slave raid was not something every six-year old could pull off.

Except the Spartans, of course.

He briefly wondered how the situation would have gone had the original team been present. His brothers and sisters, his comrades in arms. Driving off squads with stones and improvised weapons, poisoning the war-dogs and sabotaging their armor and air support.

He quickly dismissed those thoughts as foolish. He had to stay focused on the mission.

"And then you found me," she said, recounting the Chief's breach from her point of view. There was something disturbing about the inner folds of a child's mind witnessing the brutal torture of her fellow people. That innocence that made child soldiers such a viable idea.

The Master Chief was about to tell her that she had one a good job when he suddenly heard something outside. He held up his fist -their signal for total silence and stillness- and listened.

He heard the faint zooming noises and heavy thuds of solid hardware impacting around the industrial zone. Then, the steady humming of enemy dropships.

 _How did they find us?_ He wondered as he rose to his feet. Had the gunship called in reinforcements to deal with one entrenched soldier in an abandoned area? How much lives and gear were these SOB's willing to waste to take out one man?

The girl, still remaining silent, stared at him with large eyes.

"They found us," he told her. "We need to move."

~0~

* * *

 **New Cantonon orbit**

 **Hegemony heavy Frigate _Deliverance_**

 **Local time: 09:49**

Captain Adek Gor'vak watched the battle for the human colony unfold before his eyes. The human champion -this Verusian Demon, as his people had so foolishly called him- had entrenched himself deep within the industrial area of the colony.

A stupid decision. Little did he know, that he was now surrounded on all sides by the toughest, most well-trained batarian Shock troopers his army had to offer, along with three of the military-grade Mako's he had…requisitioned from his contacts. The heavy infantry vehicles could blow apart even the most heavily-armed Alliance soldiers. This…this _pretender_ would not stand in their way.

The Seraphim of Elysium…hah! As if this armored shadow could be compared to that…that _thing._ No. This shadow might have gotten lucky a few times, but his luck would most certainly run out.

And so the Captain eyed the battle with savage glee as his soldiers dropped in by the dozens. The dead-man monitor displayed a whopping hundred-and-seventeen life-signs, all of them scurrying around the large industrial zone.

The reports that came in from his many ground troops were clear; one human girl and her sneaky protector. The last remaining people in this colony. Well…the moment his troops overwhelmed and captured them, he would force one to watch the other die. The protector was most likely a capable worker, but the girl would satisfy a lot of men if properly educated.

Gor'vak was basically gnashing his teeth in delight every time he thought about the ways he could hurt these apes. These filthy, privileged apes, living in lavish luxury because of the hardship and sacrifices of good, batarian people! The success of the human people was built on the suffering of his!

He would see them ruined, all of them. He was going to make them _work_.

The various other monitors he had employed, were displaying the helmet footage of the commanders in the teams. The direct link was a bit blurry, as high-tech cameras were very expensive and difficult to procure inside the Hegemony, but they had been supplied with enough military hardware to make this work.

Hehe…work.

The Captain watched with delight as the four different perspectives detailed the individual squads working their way through a refinery. The appearance of that strange, rock-like ship had complicated things, but that too could be played to his hand. Its part looked very advanced, and very expensive. He could get away with half of this day's yield and still make a million credits off of those parts.

One of his monitors of the _Deliverance's_ bridge suddenly flickered with an alarm and Captain Gor'vak leant in closer to take a look.

Of the more than five-hundred and fifty troopers remaining, the one-hundred and seventeen he had sent into the industrial zone had properly divided into infantry squads and were ransacking the buildings in their search for this one elusive soldier. However, two soldiers had their Dead-Man suddenly activate, at the same time.

The Captain smirked. _There you are…_

"Squad Commanders, take your teams and investigate!"

This shadow wasn't very smart. He had just revealed his position-

Two more Dead-Man sensors activated and when Gor'vak activated the _Deliverance's_ advanced systems, filtering through the helmet cams until he found the footage of the Commander responsible for those men, he saw nothing.

What he heard however, sent chills down his spine.

" _Where is it? Where is it!?"_

 _"Behind you! Watch out"!_

Another Dead-Man activated and the owner of the camera spun around just in time to see one unlucky soldier get pulled straight through the roof, hauled off of his feet like a Thresher Maw had just grabbed him.

The soldiers opened fire, but something exploded behind them and the owner of the cam stumbled forwards, after which three more Dead-Man sensors activated in rapid succession. The Commander was forcibly spun around and then something massive punched straight through his helmet, destroying the camera and probably the poor bastard's entire head.

It had happened so fast that the Captain had no _clue_ as to what had just killed his men. It had been an ambush, that much was certain.

The key to this riddle was simple; there had to be more of them down there. It was a trap; the humans must have somehow coordinated an effective resistance.

No matter.

The rest of the teams quickly converged on the source of all this violence and they would tear the offender limb for limb.

Gor'vak glanced at the active roster of his men. The _Deliverance_ was a special vessel; more than two-hundred meters long and filled with the most advanced military hardware that credits could buy, its bridge could function like the CIC of a Dreadnaught. And now that they had stashed all of the captured humans in the two Sister-Frigates, processed or otherwise, he could turn the full attention of his ship to his army.

From his position, he could monitor every single able body on the ground.

More than eight soldiers had been killed in that skirmish. Plenty of soldiers left.

In the hour that followed, Captain Gor'vak would continue to monitor the progress of his soldiers with increasing frustration, desperation and exasperation, his force having already been whittled down to sixty men. Somehow, this Shadow managed to engage multiple teams as once, as the various Dead-Man sensors that went off would sometimes be a dozen meters apart-

~0~

 _The Master Chief carefully wrapped the thin fiber around the pin of the grenade and attached it to the door. Then, he took Alice and quietly made his way to the roof, where two batarian snipers had created a bird's-eye view. He took a minute to traverse the wall of the building, but the staircase had been compromised._

 _He positioned himself underneath the two snipers as the child on his back held on for dear life. He stayed like that for another two minutes, after which a particularly unlucky slaver opened the door that led to the staircase. At the blast of rolling thunder, the Chief leapt upwards, grabbed the two snipers by their legs and pulled them off the roof, sentencing them to a five-story plummet into the concrete below._

~0~

-and nobody seemed to spot him. It was a large complex that the humans had built here, but how damn hard could it be for a hundred soldiers and three Mako's to find two humans in an industrial area that wasn't much larger than a square mile?

Of the original army, only ninety-nine remained. The Shadow had superior training and skills, that quickly became obvious. Gor'vak frantically skimmed through the dozens of helmet cameras that his soldiers carried with him, but not a single one managed to catch so much as a glimpse of the soldier that was hunting them down.

That was, until one particular Shock trooper and his team engaged their target in close quarters. "There!" yelled the Captain. "Freeze at three point seven seconds!"

His crew did as he said, freezing the image of an armored form in the middle of his attack.

"Now magnify by factor seven!"

The under-officers obeyed and before long, Gor'vak was confronted with the wretched appearance of this elusive enemy.

Whatever it was, it wasn't human. Or it carried some form of experimental power armor. Yes, that had to be it. The human was massive, towering over even the largest krogan soldiers. His armor appeared battered and damaged, and it was covered with the blood of good batarian soldiers. Its heavily-armored frame was frozen in movement, in the middle of dragging a knife through the throat of one soldier, while ducking underneath a burst of gunfire from the other.

"Let it play!"

The footage resumed playing, but the event had already transpired and the fates of these men had been sealed the second their Dead-Man's activated. The shadowy behemoth struck the closest foe with one armored forearm, shattering his helmet and crushing his skull. Bullets ricocheted off of his armor like it was the hull of a starship.

In the brief three seconds that the owner of the footage had lived, the monstrous human slaughtered the entire fireteam with such speed and brutality that it couldn't possibly be a human.

It couldn't be!

More Dead-Man sensors had been triggered, and silence reigned on the bridge. Gor'vak was gripping the edge of his chair with a mixture of horror and fury. This…this _thing_ moved so fast! The trooper had been unable to follow him!

A mech. A robot, or something like that. A desperate, last-measure military mech that the humans had sicked on his men.

Gor'vak's fury reached its crescendo as the drivers of Mako-one suddenly called for help. Not reinforcements, but _help._

~0~

* * *

 _A small hole was all that it took. The Spartan dug his fingers in the small opening that his ambush had created, digging his fingers into the metal frame. Slowly, he started ripping the door free, the large APC was helpless before his assault. One crewmember tried to stop him, but his strength was more than enough to overcome._

 _With a tremendous effort, the Master Chief tore the door open, revealing the crew inside. Vulnerable, barely-armed crew._

~0~

* * *

And then, just like that, their transmissions stopped. Fifty-three troops remained, and Mako-one was most certainly down.

Gor'vak screamed and smashed his fist onto the console. "All soldiers, converge on Mako-one's position! Every soldier who brings me a piece of its body gets paid double!"

That was more than enough to motivate his troops, but the Captain worried about the effectiveness of said motivation. If they hadn't been able to counter this elusive foe when it had been slaughtering them, what shift of tactics would allow them to prevail now?

"Captain!" One of his officers then yelled. "The _Kar'shan's Glory_ just stopped communicating!"

The news was so unexpected, so utterly conflicting with what had been going on, that Gor'vak barely understood what it meant. "What do you mean, stopped communicating?" He demanded. The Lieutenant of that Escort Frigate would pay for his incompetence!

"Ehm…" the officer nervously eyed his station. "The _Glory's_ kinetic barriers are down…its engines too. The ship is completely nonresponsive, sir."

Not possible! He had been communicating with his Lieutenant half an hour ago! "Gods above…what keeps the _Glory_ lifted, then? Huh? Tell me that!"

"As far as I know, the Mass Effect core seems to be still online. The rest is just…dead."

This stank like sabotage! To perfectly disable a vessel's every vital system yet keeping it from crashing into the surface of the planet? More human treachery.

Captain Gor´vak was growing very tired of this. If a hundred soldiers hadn't been able to kill this Shadow, fifty wouldn't do it either. He no longer cared about one pitiful girl and her protector; he just wanted them dead!

"Captain Gor'vak to all squad Commanders," he growled into his intercom, which patched him through to what remained of his army on the ground. There was just too much cover…too much concealment. Just like the Seraphim of Elysium. "Fall back to the forest. Repeat, fall back to the forest. Judgement Day has arrived…"

This monstrosity, whatever it was, was not the Seraphim. And this wasn't Elysium. What this Shadow -this _Demon_ \- was, Gor'vak did not know. But he knew one thing:

It was going to burn.

~0~

* * *

Tali'zorah nar Rayya nervously watched the enormous warship descend onto the planet like a hungry vuloture, closing in on its prey. Something was wrong, terribly wrong. She had known it the moment she had heard the word 'batarian'. This mission was going to end horrible.

Shepard -her Jane, her staunchest protector, her closest friend- stood with her back to the rest of the squad, watching footage of the colony that the _Normandy_ had patched through. The quarians made extensive use of unmanned drones to scout unknown locations, and with her help, the engineers on the _SR-2_ had managed to create an unmanned vehicle that could map its surroundings.

Right now, Jane was benefitting from the view that the little machine granted, but it didn't seem to distract her one bit from the dark thoughts that had to be going through her head right now.

Then, after a minute of awkward silence, during which the shuttle avoides patrols and gunships to touch down somewhere safe, Operative Lawson spoke up. "They're falling back," she quietly said.

"No shit?" Jack glanced at the screen and smirked. "Hah! Fucker's must be scared shitless!"

Somehow, Tali didn't think it was that easy. Batarian slavers were like hounds; once they smelled blood, they would never let it go, unless they were completely routed. And this wasn't a rout.

She glanced at the screen as well and saw a coordinated retreat, abandoning the industrial zone that lay in the middle of a small valley. The surrounding treeline -a ring of forest, easily several kilometers across- wasn't entirely intact. One patch had been completely burnt down, while surrounding zones were burning. Someone had torn a path of destruction from the charred, burning zone, all the way into the heart of the colony.

The poor colonists…Tali understood why her Commander was so utterly infuriated. She too could barely control her outrage at this view. Collectors were abducting entire colonies, batarians invaded and slaughtered their way through those that remained and the Council didn't do a thing.

Just like it had with the Geth.

"Think those bastards are in league with the Collectors?" asked Zaeed, his voice sounding amusingly muffled from the cockpit.

"Hardly…they Collector Cruiser is destroyed and the batarians haven't left," replied Lawson. She always seemed to disagree with someone.

Then, right as Zaeed declared that they he had found a place to touch down, the batarian warship opened fire.

"Oh _Keelah_!" Tali gasped as the massive vessel of war fired its mass accelerator cannons at the colony. Those weapons were rated to destroy starships, but feeble buildings. "Those poor people…"

Miranda groaned and closed her eyes, averting her head from the large screen.

"What?" said Zaeed. "What's going on?"

"Fuck," Jack swore. "Those four-eyed bastards are fucking that colony up!"

"What?"

"The batarians opened fire on the industrial zone," Shepard softly said. Her voice was remarkably calm, though Tali detected a slight tremor that only she heard. Of all the teammates -friends, as Jane called them- that the _Normandy_ had gathered up to now, only she and Garrus really understood the commander. Tali saw things that the others didn't see, and she saw her friend barely able to keep herself calm. Her limbs were trembling ever so slightly, her eyes were staring and a faint, blue glow emanated from her back.

The large slugs simply _tore_ through the buildings, razing them down to the ground and obliterating them utterly. The trees shook with the shockwaves of the impact and even as the shuttle touched down, the impact of the mass accelerators could be felt.

"Stay down!" Shepard yelled at them. "Wait until that ship finishes! Joker, what's the situation?"

~0~

* * *

The sky turned white. Thunder rolled across his body as a rain of hyper-velocity slugs slammed into the heart of the colony. Fire and metal, both molten as shrapnel, blossomed through the air. The ground cracked and shattered, overpressure waves flattened buildings and a thousand daggers stabbed through his body, which was flung through a wall and into a pile of debris.

Something snapped with a loud _crack!_ and a searing pain shot through his face. Blood poured onto his visor, which had gone completely dark.

The Master Chief felt darkness wash over him, but the pain that lanced through his body fought back against the creeping shadow of unconsciousness. He fought to stay awake, and his heads-up display slowly flickered back into existence.

His visor had cracked. Sharp pieces of polymer and glass had torn though the skin of his socket, narrowly missing his left eye. Blood dripped from the wound, but also from between his libs.

He coughed and his chest ached in protest.

Slowly, groggily, the Master Chief rose. He groaned and weakly climbed back to his feet, dizzy and confused.

He remembered having watched the batarian forces retreat. He remembered grabbing Alice and sprinting to cover when the inevitable airstrike had hit, but he had never expected an entire warship to fire at the city…

John looked around, and realized that the slavers hadn't just fired at the colony. They had razed it to the ground. Not a single building remained upright. The warehouses had been reduced to rubble, the towers had completely collapsed and the entire industrial zone was just…just gone.

 _Alice!_

Where was she? Was she safe?

The Chief checked his motion tracker, which had miraculously survived the ordeal. A thin crack ran across his visor at that section, but the radar was still visible enough.

Nothing.

A jolt of anxiety ran through his mind and he started searching for the young girl, before the batarians did. They couldn't lay their hands on her, they wouldn't. He had vowed to protect her.

He searched through the wreckages and piles of debris, ripping through chunks of concrete and stone, silently hoping that he wouldn't find her buried underneath a hill of rebar and stone…

That was then he saw her. She was half-buried underneath a small heap of debris. Heavy, but not lethal.

Not lethal.

The Master Chief hurried towards her, but halfway he stopped as he got a better view on her body.

Her head, oddly positioned, was aimed his way, but her large eyes were staring at nothingness. Vacant. Empty. Her small chest was still and did not move.

He was too late.

John knelt down next to the small body, unwilling to believe it. She had survived so much, lasted for so long…and he had promised her. Promised her he would keep her safe.

He reached out and touched her face. One side had been seared by the blast, but her dark hair fell across the charred skin, making it look like nothing was amiss.

Her body had been broken by the overwhelming shockwaves. Her spine, her neck...she would have died on impact.

The Master Chief felt a hollow feeling spread through his chest that had nothing to do with his wounds. "I'm sorry," he whispered, and very gently closed her eyes.

Then, he looked up at the sky, where the warship was still looming. Gunships were already scouting the wreckages and armoured vehicles were racing down the streets, only barely hindered by the debris.

He felt a sickening sensation of pure, undiluted _hate_. Something he had not felt for a very long time. It was almost alien to him.

But not too alien that he didn't know what it meant. There would be hell to pay.

~0~

* * *

Commander Shepard needed that heavy Frigate down and she needed it _now._ And she had just the idea for it. Joker was currently engaging the other two Frigates, luring them away from the colony. This one however had its eyes set on the people in the colony and was dead-set on slaughtering them all.

"Tali, is the drone still airborne?"

The quarian machinist nodded. "It is. The gunships didn't bother shooting it. It's just like you predicted; they are too distracted by the ground defense."

Of course they were. All predators preferred live prey and batarians were no exceptions. It was a miracle that there was anyone still alive down there; orbital bombardments like that wreaked hell on unprotected infantry. Anything short of a fully-shielded soldier in an EXO-suit would get nailed by the shockwaves those created.

"Good. We're going to need it."

"For what?"

~0~

* * *

Captain Gor'vak had been staring at a monitor displaying the progress of his troops when an alar suddenly blared. He looked up and then screamed in surprise and terror as something round and solid smashed through the windows, seemingly unopposed by the kinetic barriers. It smashed through several monitors, crushing the crewmen that were too slow to dodge the projectile. It came to a violent stop several meters away from his chair, having ruined half his bridge.

"What the blazes is that!" He demanded. It was a big, metal ball, still smoking from having its internal electronics busted. Who had _dared_ to attack _his_ ship?! "How did it get past our defenses?"

The Alliance vessel that had dropped out of FTL close to this system! His incompetent subordinates still had not done away with it? How hard was it to take care of _one_ Frigate with two Heavy Frigates! They had double the manpower, double the defensive capabilities!

Upon detecting the sudden breach in his ship, the internal security systems instantly alerted the closest soldier detail, but they were still one the other side of the ship. It meant that the beautiful bridge was still defaced by this ugly hulk of metal.

One of the techs who had survived this strange assault approached and scanned it with his omni-tool. "It's a drone," he called. "Spirits…a spy drone. It bypassed out barriers because of its slow speed."

Captain inwardly cringed. Of course…slow objects always bypassed kinetic barriers and he had been too preoccupied to notice it approaching. Argh, the sweet taste of vengeance had blinded him to the duties of an officer…

Gor'vak pushed away his personal feelings, realizing the grave tactical mistake he had made. "Man your stations!" he shouted. "Scan for that cursed human vessel!" He would have his bridge sealed, but the sight of the destroyed colony was too entrancing for him to really care. After Elysium, Gor'vak just wanted to see the humans burn. Burn, wither and fade away.

He brought his Frigate close to the surface, closer than any commanding officer would recommend. But what had he to fear? His quarry was gone, the humans all but wiped out. They had no defenses. All that was left was watch the burning corpse through the windows of his bridge.

"Mantis one through seven! Form a perimeter around the _Deliverance_! Protect the ship from more of those drones!" Whatever tricks they had, it wouldn't work. The Alliance dogs would not interfere now! His gunships would keep the _Deliverance_ protected from further aerial attacks.

A minute later, as the troopers appeared on deck to clear the makeshift projectile and clear the deck of bodies, gore and destroyed electronics, the Captain turned his attention back to the human colony. His soldiers were moving in to make sure that the Shadow was dead and gone. He could never be sure. The Seraphim of Elysium had been active even after five of his soldiers had, on separate occasions, reported its demise!

Gor'vak failed to see the looks that his under-officers gave each other. Failed to see the disapproval and skepticism in the eyes of his soldiers as they cleared the casualties that could have easily been prevented by a _rational_ officer.

 _Yes,_ the slaver Captain thought, oblivious to the doubt he was sowing. He looked forward to seeing the burning, battered body of this unholy thorn in his side. It would bring him one step closer to closure, to leaving behind that day of madness and sorrow.

So when he started hearing reports of casualties once again, his scream of rage was enough to send several of his crew scampering for cover.

"How!" He roared, spittle flying from his mouth. "How is that fucking thing still alive!"

~0~

* * *

 _The Master Chief lunged for the batarian shock trooper, cutting completely loose. He punched him in the throat, crushing his windpipe, then followed up with a jab so powerful that it tore loose the alien's lower jaw._

 _A gunship opened fire and he quickly spun around a charging slaver who had attempted to flank him. He grabbed the soldier, crushed his right knee and then positioned him in front of the incoming shells. Blood sprayed across his chest and helmet. In his adrenaline-fueled, rage-driven state, he still recognized the warship that loomed above the colony. The various shuttles and gunships were keeping a tight perimeter around it._

 _They didn't protect the vessel. They merely provided him with a way in._

~0~

* * *

"Captain!" One of Gor'vak's officers shouted from behind his console. "The hostile-"

But the Captain did not listen. He was glaring at the helmet cams of his Commanders who, after a brief engagement, had lost the Shadow. "Where is it… _where?_ "

"Captain!" That same officer called again, glaring at his monitor in clear disbelieve.

"I threw everything I had at it! EVERYTHING!" In his fury, the captain threw one of the unmanned chairs through the bridge. At that display of violence, the soldiers edged closer, while the crewmen started moving away. "This was supposed to be a simple slave run! I lost TWO-HUNDRED FUCKING MEN TO THIS THING!"

Another chair went flying and the officer merely sighed, showing his monitor to his colleagues. They took one look at the data, then promptly stood and left the bridge, leaving Gor'vak alone with the soldiers.

The Captain failed to notice his crew leaving the bridge, just as he failed to notice that the very quarry he was foaming at the corners of his mouth about, was heading straight for the bridge. It was only when the Shadow steered the hijacked gunship straight into the bridge that Gor'vak realized how horribly, horribly mistaken he had been in ignoring the pleas of his crew. They had seen the armored, blood-covered Shadow leap from gunship to gunship in its mad dash to the _Deliverance_ while he had been raving like a lunatic.

The soldiers all took cover and opened fire on the smoking frame of the abomination, perfectly mirroring the situation on the ground.

Except that Gor´vak was now stuck in their middle. He stared at the Demon.

And its damaged visor turned to meet his gaze. A golden abyss, insurmountable and immovable. An unstoppable force.

The batarian Captain muttered a single, terrified "No!" and ran, abandoning his soldiers to the wrath of the Verusian Demon.

~0~

* * *

Shepard rushed through the forest that surrounded what had once been the thriving colony of New Cantonon, carving a bloody path through the few stragglers that remained. The aliens were all charging towards the ruined center, which the warship had just flattened with its main battery. Because of that, they never saw her coming.

The Commander tore through the batarian's feeble shield with a casual flick of her wrist, picked the alien up with her Biotics and then threw it against the charred remains of a tree, impaling it on one of its roots.

Behind her, Tali finished the alien off with a shot from her shotgun. She tore her eyes from the gruesome sight before her Commander charged too far ahead, silently praying that she wouldn't do anything stupid.

Zaeed and Jack were both gunning down the very few survivors of Jane´s onslaught as she made her way towards the destroyed heart of the colony, where most of the fighting seemed to be going on. She caught one batarian unaware and shot out its shields with two shots of her sidearm. Then, she wrapped it in a Biotic field and broke its spine, leaving it writhing on the floor.'

Again, Tali finished it off when Jane wouldn't.

The other batarian managed to turn around just in time to see her unleash a powerful Biotic Throw at it. "Oh shit. No! Don't!"

The cascade of Biotic energy washed over the alien and blasted it down the hill. If the initial force had not killed it, the landing certainly would.

Jane watched the alien come to a sudden stop against a rock with cold indifference. Tali put a hand on her shoulder and, when the Commander turned to glance at her, she pointed at the sky, where the largest warship was about to crash into the field of debris it had caused with its bombardment.

"I´ll be goddamned…" Zaeed muttered. He lowered his weapon and stared at the batarian warship that was careening nose-first into the surface of the colony. Ten of those ships could have fitted into the industrial zone, but the sheer force of its impact crumpled the entire front of the ship and the superstructure seemed to buckle. Rapid series of explosions blossomed outwards from its hull, which sprang open at several places to reveal smoking, damaged decks.

At least half a dozen escape pods had launched from its aft section. Of course.

"Well shit," said Jack. "That's a pretty sight. We do that?"

"No," Tali immediately said. "The trajectory of the drone couldn't have caused a calamity like that."

"That wasn't us," replied Jane, translating for Tali.

It couldn't be; Joker was still keeping the other two Frigates away from the colony, but he wouldn't have had time to engage the big one. No, that was something else. The same something that had taken the Collector Cruiser down?

Their squad wasn't the only one advancing on the crashed warship. "Look," Tali said, pointing at the crash-site. Dozens of batarian soldiers were rushing towards the point of impact, as well as something that looked suspiciously like a Mako. The valley was filling with hostile targets already.

Worst of all, it appeared as if they would all arrive at the same time.

"Shouldn't they have evacuated by now?"

"Slavers are damn cowards! They have their slaves; they should have run!"

"Something obviously didn't want them to run," replied Tali. "Were they ordered to stay behind?"

"It doesn't matter," Jane sharply said. "If they stayed here, they die."

Easier said than done. Tali counted at least fifty well-armed slavers, and that Mako was making short work of the piles of debris and rubble that the bombardment had caused, creating paths for the foot-soldiers to take. While it wasn't exactly an army, it was still a considerable force.

How many slaves had been aboard that ship? How had the that Bosh'tet of a Captain allowed his ship to crash? Could it have been an inside job?

As the squad advanced down the hill, mopping up batarian slavers that were taking up positions to fire heavy weapons from, Tali noticed something at the front of the Frigate, where the bridge had been positioned. The soldiers were gathering there for an assault, as if there was something of interest there.

"Commander!" She said.

"I see it," replied Shepard. She was already covered with the faint glow of her powerful Biotics, and while Tali was very apprehensive of what would happen once she really cut loose, a part of her was also curious.

It wasn't until the batarian soldiers were actually storming the position at the front of the crashed Frigate that Tali realized just what it was that they were storming.

There, in the burnt-down husk of what had once been a tall building, one man fought against overwhelming odds. Even from this distance, Tali realized who he was. He was the one who had stayed behind on the Collector Cruiser. He was the one who had refused to die, the one who refused to surrender even now.

He was, without a shadow of a doubt, the one who had been fighting this invasion force the entire time,

Jane saw it, too. And then she just disappeared in a wash of Biotics.

Tali smiled, lowering her gun. "Rest easy warrior," she spoke, citing an age-old poem of her people. "The Angel of the Blitz is here now."

~0~

* * *

Blood sprayed. Dark red. They bled the same as humans.

They died like animals.

A sparkling device attached itself to his arm, magnetically adhering itself to the MJOLNIR. A painful tingling, his arm went limp.

He brought his other arm down on the head of the offending attacker, sending bone, brain and blood splattering across the walls.

Bullets impacted on the wall behind him, followed by a massive _boom!_ as the armored vehicle found him yet again.

Too tired to leap away, he brushed past the wall, crushed the device on his arm and dove for cover. Another supersonic blast exploded over his head, destroying what little cover was left.

Glaring at the APC, the Chief crawled back to his feet, clutching his abdomen. Exhaustion washed over him as internal bleeding and blood-loss slowly assumed mastery over him. The section of his HUD still active displayed his biosign. Erratic, fluctuating.

Every wound ached, every muscle burned.

Yet he went on, even if it was merely to spite his foe.

The butchers rushed him with melee weapons, crude electronic devices and odd spiked chips. Some carried guns, others fired odd, electrified webs at him.

The Chief was too slow to dodge their fire and too sluggish to avoid their tech attacks, but every alien that entered within close range with him died instantly and painfully.

One of the bastards swept at him with a sword that glowed with an orange hue. The Chief blocked the strike with a stolen rifle, but the sword cut through the weapon like it wasn't even there. He barely registered the impact.

The murderer _did_ register the contact as the Spartan jumped upwards and drove his armored knee through his head.

Then, out of nowhere, that damned APC appeared again. It plowed through a solid wall and smashed into the Chief, who was too sluggish to roll out of the way. He dug his heels into the ground and tried to get a grip, but was only able to prevent himself from being run over. After several slow, agonizing seconds, the vehicle slammed him against the outer frame of the crashed Frigate.

There, both it as the Spartan came to a lurking halt.

Wounded but still alive, John tore the pistol he had taken a few minutes earlier from his hip and opened fire. The filthy animals came at him from all directions, intent on finishing him off in close quarters. Through blurry eyes and a blood-splattered visor he returned the favor, slotting the bastards as they came.

Hydrostatic gel was oozing from the various breaches in his suit, sometimes mixed with blood. A steady trickle of blood dripped from between his lips and his heart was hammering over 200 bpm's.

Two of the alien bastards outflanked him from his right and the Spartan was forced to defend himself one-handed, pinned to the ship's hull as he was. He fended off the several frenzied attacks that the butchers threw at him, brained one of them with a well-placed jab and then watched the second back off.

If he was falling apart on the inside, he was going to take as many of murderers with him as he could. For Cortana. For Alice. For every one of his brothers and sisters who had perished in the war, giving their lives to break freaks just like these.

One murderer jumped at him from his right and the Chief blocked its strike with his armored forearm, once, twice, three times. One the fourth time he grabbed the alien´s skull, drove his thumb deep into its eye-socket and slammed its skull down against the APC's hull splattering it across the metal.

The bastards were coming _from_ the vehicle as well. Six of them. Running and gunning. The Master Chief was unable to take them all out and they swarmed over him, stabbing and punching at whatever they could find.

And he did the same to them, ripping and tearing at whatever limb he got his hands on.

More hordes of the butchers appeared, surrounding him. But with them came something else. A flash of the brightest blue he had ever seen in his life appeared right in the middle of the batarian forces. A humanoid figure, radiating so much power and _force_ and magnificence that the butchers fighting with him dropped what they were doing and stared.

Then, the batarians started dying.

It was a sight that filled the Chief with an emotion he could not place. Through darkness and blurriness, he watched something tear through the alien forces. It appeared and reappeared in constant flashes of explosive, reddish blue light, cracking concrete and disintegrating flesh wherever it struck. She was like lightning, straying from the thunder. A lethal, fluid dealer of death, implacable.

 _Cortana?_

Though she never stayed in the same place for more than a heartbeat, he managed to catch glimpses of what she looked like. Humanoid, engulfed in a corona of red-blue light. Each time she disappeared in a flash of light, strange tendrils of light erupted from her back, right before she flickered back into existence and smeared another alien across the wall.

It wasn´t Cortana.

To John, the closest description he could find for her was that of an angel.

~0~

* * *

She felt like she was floating in light. Screams, explosions and gunfire had all died down around her as she started moving, never to come to a halt again. In her heart, boiling rage met joyful glee.

A subtle nudge, a hairbreadth's width, that was all that Jane needed. The second she appeared behind a batarian slaver holding a rocket launcher, she placed her boot down and released a Biotic blast along her leg, through the concrete and into her surroundings. Bodies went flying, stones cracked and the trooper stumbled to the ground, both of his legs broken.

 _Her friend. They wouldn't get him._

The last time she had so utterly cut loose had been Elysium. Elysium, where batarian pirates had butchered innocent civilians. Elysium, where the monsters had attempted to take her again. Elysium, where she had become like a spirit of vengeance, carving through their forces with pitiful ease.

Elysium, where she was _now._

A heartbeat later she reappeared behind a trio of troopers who had been about to open fire on the pinned-down man. With a combination of acrobatics and brute force, she dispatched of them. A spinal cord shattered, a neck bent the wrong way and a heart was stopped by a single, Biotic-fueled blow.

She dominated the battlefield like that. One unfortunate group was set up by a singularity, pulling them off their feet, crushing their bones as the dark-energy field easily overcame their muscle strength.

Jane did not stick around for the screaming. In a wash of Biotics, she appeared atop the Mako, perched atop its turret, right above her friend. In that instant, the sensitive field around assessed the brave soul.

His armor was charred, singed and battered. The soldier within was bleeding, drifting near unconsciousness and in pain.

A part was lost to animalistic rage brought on by sorrow and hatred. A part was sharp and calculating, plotting the demise of those who had hurt it.

One part was calmed and comforted by her sight, and aimed at her.

She looked down at him, smiling. There was a hole in front of his left eye, the core of several cracks in his visor.

Bright and blue. Impossibly-bright and blue.

Her thought processes greatly enhanced by the energy-consuming Biotic field that encompassed her very soul, she _understood._

Impossibly-bright and blue and very, _very_ much human.

Reassured that her friend was still alive, Jane engaged her Biotics and disappeared in a flash of red and blue light, continuing her rampage.

~0~

* * *

Miranda raised her SMG to open fire at one of the last remaining batarian soldiers, but the quarian reached out and gently took her wrist.

The gesture couldn't have stopped her, not with her strength. But the meaning behind it was not lost on her, and out of respect for her teammate, she did lower her weapon.

"Just let her take care of it," said the quarian.

Miranda snorted. "Oh? You want to let Shepard do this all by herself? You know what happened on Elysium! What it did to her!"

There was nothing in the quarian's voice that indicated hostility, or even distress. She sounded utterly calm. "I know. And that is why we shouldn't interfere. We'll only get in her way."

The Operative gritted her teeth, but when she returned her focus to the battlefield, she saw that the quarian was right. Shepard seemed to set the stones underneath her alight with Biotic energy as she virtually danced across the battlefield, ending lives with single strikes. The sheer Biotic energy that she radiated could outshine that of a Matriarch and she applied it to her _everything._ Her body, her mind, her soul.

Up to this very moment, Miranda had thought the reports of Elysium to be an exaggerating of what had happened. Now, however, as the Commander killed, maimed and otherwise disabled three dozen batarian slavers in a matter of minutes, she understood that the official story had been _playing down_ what had really happened.

Though they could not have possibly heard the quarian's suggestion, both Zaeed as Jack stood down as well _._ The former nearly dropped his rifle upon seeing the devastation, while the latter stared with a solemn, shocked expression on her face.

It was over as quickly as it had started. If the reports of Elysium were the least bit accurate, Jane had just exhausted herself to the brink of death. Well, it didn't seem that way. She approached the motionless form of the equally-impossible warrior and gently took his helmet in both of her hands.

~0~

* * *

"Hello," Jane told the man who had returned from the dead. Her Biotic aura broke down and she felt a trickle of blood run down the corner of her mouth.

Still she smiled. He was staring at her through the broken hole in his visor. The hyper-intuition that had come with the overclocking of her body had faded away, but she didn't care.

She blinked away the exhaustion that crept on her vision and gently placed her hands around the man's helmet. "You have a very special friend," she warmly told him. "You can rest now…we've got you."

At that, the Master chief closed his eye, and with the last of the near-superhuman intuition, Jane felt him drift away.

"We've got you."


	12. Chapter 12: Pressure

Chapter 12, in which doctor Chakwas has to worry about her blood pressure.

~0~

* * *

" _I need to discuss this with Councilor Valern. There are many dormant Mass Relays that, understandably, nobody wants to open. But the Rachni Wars transpired two millennia ago; it is time to move on, time for progress. If we can find a dormant Relay that lead into that particular section of space, we can not only bypass the Terminus Systems for future journeys, but also make contact with a new species! Hypothetical new species, of course. Hmm…I should contact Solus for arguments…"_

\- _Commander Rentola's logbook, entry 5_

 _~0~_

* * *

 **Terminus Systems**

 **Batarian Frigate _Pride of Kar´shan_**

The Device was like a leash. It bound him to the alien masters, physically and mentally. He could not think for himself, could not move for himself, merely obey.

 _Obey._

The pale human sat alone within his cell, staring at the corner with empty eyes that did not see. The Device allowed him to breathe, refusing him the death that might have freed him. His neck still burned and ached after the impromptu surgery. Wounds that would never heal, scars that would never fade.

 _Obey._

That single word rebounded across his mind like a throbbing, infected wound. Ah, how the itching metal implant dominated his very soul. The events leading up to this…this _prison_ were vague.

Fires. Smoke. The faint smell of burning meat. Not unpleasant, but thick. Lingering. The screaming, he remembered that too. Fondly, for a while. Then the source became apparent…

His limbs were heavy, his eyes groggy. Even remembering was an act he was not allowed.

 _Obey._

The human longed for a small moment of reprieve, if only to flex his muscles. They were ever so tense, and the repeated physicals assaults on his naked body had not made it better. Hot metal put against his bare skin…the stench of burning flesh still lingered. There were symbols on his back, now. He wondered if they were pretty.

Time passed by like a slow trickle. Every now and then, a droplet of water would strike the metal, and another thought would slip by the control of the Device.

The Normals had gotten their wish after all, then. That they had all fallen to that particular fate as well was a small consolation.

Surely _something_ of use swam around his mind? Anything at all? Or were the wires in his brain all that remained now? Such an anticlimax.

 _Obey._

Yes, one popped up, suddenly and rather unsolicited. No, the alien masters were not the only ones who forced him to obey, who imposed upon him their will. Before them, it had been humans. Humans not like him. The neuro-typical kind. The ´Normals´. Truly, compulsory restraining of his behavior was about the one thing that the Device allowed him to think about.

How ironic- _._

A flash of white light erupted behind his eyes as the Device punished him for thinking too much. The electricity coursed down his spine, causing his muscles to jerk and spasm.

"Ah…fu…"

How had he solved the human essence of his restraining? The enforced demanding of the binding of his mind? Everywhere he was, they always sought to enslave him to _their_ ways, to _their_ way of thinking.

 _Ob-_

He softly inhaled as one memory of a different nature echoed through his consciousness. Someone who genuinely loved him. The one, very rare individual he truly felt affection for.

 _Mother._

His breathing became more somewhat irregular. His mother. She had protected him against the Normals since his birth. When the alien masters -the alien invaders- had descended upon his home, they had taken her.

The Device buzzed in his skull, signaling the arrival of one of his masters.

Hmm…was it dinnertime, or had his own time run out? They had taken most of the others away. Hours and hours it took, slowly watching the presence of the others wane. One by one, the alien masters took them away. In silence of course. Resisting the alien masters, be it vocally or physically, was a thing of the past now.

And he watched them leave with indifference. Had the Device not regulated his thoughts with the little wires in his brain, he might have felt some joy at their disappearance. But now, what little emotion he was capable of feeling was taken from him.

But if it was dinnertime…maybe not for much longer.

His mother. They would not have her. He would find her -he _needed_ to find her.

In the distance echoed the sound of a metal door slamming shut, followed by heavy footsteps as one of the alien masters came walking down the dimly-lit hallway.

The human attempted to smile, but the Device blocked the muscles in his face, keeping it locked in an uncaring mask of blandness.

Soon…soon…

"Wakey wakey," the alien master said with his gravelly voice. "Here's your food, meat."

A wet slap followed as the alien master threw… _something_ on the ground. The new slave was unable to turn around and look for himself though; the Device prevented him from moving unless…

 _Obey._

The human grumbled something unintelligible. Even his jaw muscles were loyal to the Device, it seemed. He would test those, first.

The alien master still heard him. He thundered towards the shimmering door and unlocked it. With what, he did not know.

"Got something to say, meat?" barked the master.

Not to be heard, don't say a word…oh, he would keep his words to himself. He was waiting for a specific one though.

 _Obey._

"Yeah…didn't think so." The alien master then lashed out at the human with a heavy boot, kicking him against the shimmering wall of light. "You humans need to learn your place! Once we reach Omega, you'll never see the light of day again."

Another kick. More pain…it _riled_ him up. Drove him towards that beloved, life-saving breaking point. His neck itched, his skin prickled.

"Bet you'll sell better than the women, too. Pretty boy like you? You're going to become someone's very special friend, meat! Maybe a turian will take a liking to you." The alien laughed again. "If we're lucky, we'll see a krogan take off with you."

The human groaned, unable to even clutch his bruised ribs. Yes…this would do.

"Well, whatcha waiting for? Eat up. Heh…"

His laughter was abruptly cut off as the human suddenly jumped to his feet and lunged for him. The batarian's thick suit failed to protect him and the human sank his teeth deep within the alien's exposed throat, easily tearing through flesh and arteries. Warm, salty blood spouted free and filled his mouth, driving him into an ecstasy he had not felt in a _very_ long time. It felt warm and safe and so _good._

The alien sputtered and wheezed in pathetic attempts to cry for help, but the human easily cut off his air supply and smothered any sound in its crib. He dragged the batarian against the ground, pinned him down his limbs.

Now _it_ was the one who jerked and spasmed…the one who was lying on the ground, helpless and at the mercy of others.

And like the Normals, the slave had none.

Its blood was thick and saline, possessing _just_ the right knack for his mind to snap back under his own control. The Device was strong, but the pleasure of the violence was just a tad stronger.

The human ripped out the batarian's throat with his bare teeth and stopped only when the 'master' stopped thrashing. Then. He raised his head and allowed the warm, red blood too pour down his body.

"Ah…hah…"

Now _…now_ he could sit and _think._

His name, William Johannes Everheart. His mother, kidnapped. His mind…not free of control yet.

William softly inhaled through his nose, allowing the metallic scent of the freshly-shed blood to overcome the musky stench of the metal ship. His Biotics were vibrating underneath his skin, his biotic amp just waiting for a full release.

The fools had forgotten to remove it. The one memento to his father.

Not yet…not yet. First, he needed to be free of that pesky piece of junk embedded within his skull. Nothing would dictate how he lived his life…not _people,_ not _machines._

He manifested his biotics in a thin layer over his skin, gently and very carefully steering them towards his neck. He found something that did not belong there. The control chip, embedded within the base of his neck, reaching up to his skull.

Everheart reached for it with the dark energy fields, grasping it and directing the destructive forces through its frame. The batarian piece of metal was unable to stand up to the damaging flow of energy and slowly, it started to disintegrate.

Blood dripped down on his neck, but he only relished in the pain. He had long ago learned how to channel the discomfort of his body into something useful. How would he have survived otherwise?

The Device spurred desperately to stop him, but his willpower was vastly more powerful than it. The little machine was disintegrated, dissolved by the delicate biotic forces he ran through his body.

The process made him somewhat dizzy. He had never before used his brain to destroy something in his brain.

With the alien Device gone, William's body was his own again. He took a deep breath and exhaled, calming his hysterical heart.

He glanced down at the pathetic corpse of his batarian jailer, pushing away the desire to further maim and disfigure it in his rage. He had better things to do.

After having armed himself with the alien's gun and knife, Everheart glanced down the hallway. There would be more of them…more of the batarian slavers. One of them would tell him where his mother was. A little creative coercion might be necessary.

Well, he would probably do that anyway.

~0~

* * *

 **Normandy SR-2**

 **Medical bay**

Doctor Karin Chakwas set her mug of cold coffee down and reexamined the graphs that the VI program was uploading to her omni-tool, charting images of the soldier's internal structure. Holographic bones, organs and muscles were slowly mapped by the medical bay's deep scanning technology.

Occasionally, she glanced at this 'Master Chief'. When they had brought this man to the medical bay, it had generated quite an upheaval. The newest addition to the team had been seen as an enigma, as well as somewhat of a force of nature on the battlefield. It had taken the combined effort of Jack and Samara to biotically lift the soldier into the medical bay and even then, several other crewmembers had gathered outside.

The Doctor had taken one look at the cracked visor, charred and bullet-riddled armor and bleeding wounds and immediately activated a sterilization field to prevent airborne bacteria or other particles from making the situation worse.

His battered combat armor had proven impossible to remove through normal means, which had led to Tali'Zorah nar Rayya being pressed into service to aid in its removal. The girl was a hard worker and she was making good progress with the several engineering drones she had employed to hold and remove the various pieces of armor she was working with. Already she had laid his chest bare.

Thus far, all the evidence pointed to the conclusion that this Master Chief truly _was_ a human, which had confused Doctor Chakwas somewhat. Shepard had been _convinced_ of his alien nature and, after all, the good Commander didn't often make mistakes when it came to people.

Jane had gone back on that assumption after the Master Chief's recovery from New Campton, of course. It seemed that there was a first time for everything.

Karen would go with the assumption that this soldier was indeed a human. His chest, though unhealthily pale and more muscled than mister Taylor, looked completely human to her. Of course, that was disregarding the many scars that the soldier had accumulated over his life, as well as the long, angry lines of previous surgical procedures…and as well as the many bruises and bleeding wounds that had to have been caused by his most recent operation.

In fact, that one individual had survived the congregation of so many scars was something inhuman on its own. Just how many rounds had the batarian ground forces fired at him? And what on Earth had the soldier done to get himself so drenched in alien blood?

Fortunately, the gore on his armor was nothing that the sterilization field couldn't scrub clean. Chakwas longed to see what manner of facial traits were hidden underneath that damaged helmet of his. But she was a professional, and she could keep her curiosity under control for as long as was needed.

"There, all done," Tali'Zorah nar Rayya said, stepping back and giving the signals to the drones she had brought with her to power down. "His helmet can be removed without incident, but I can't risk taking off more of his suit."

"Scared of the big, bad fusion reactor?" Joked Shepard. The woman sat on her bed, against Chakwas' orders, and was impatiently playing with the blue omni-tool that she had insisted on keeping at her person, against Chakwas' orders.

At least her surgery had gone by without a hassle. Doctor Mordin Solus was a very gifted individual. She had recruited the salarian into the surgery, not only because of the extensive injuries that the soldier had received, but also because of the potentially-alien flora that his body might contain. They had found this man in a cryogenic chamber on a derelict vessel, after all.

That, and performing surgery on two destructive soldiers that were so privy to self-damage was a harrowing task, not meant for one professional alone.

"Yes," Tali'Zorah honestly replied. "If I tinker too much with the suit, I might trigger a meltdown that will rival the destruction of the original _Normandy._ Sorry Doctor."

"That is alright, Tali," Replied Doctor Chakwas. The quarian had done an excellent job in guiding the several drones and machines that had, for the past hour, methodically stripped the soldier of parts his marvelous suit. "I can treat most of his injuries like this. Thank you for your assistance."

The quarian nodded at her and exited the medical bay, understanding that her services were no longer needed.

"So Docs," said the Commander. "I need to know one thing, and one thing only."

"Don't worry Shepard," said Doctor Chakwas. "The Master Chief will live. His internal organs seem to be mostly intact-"

"Can I remove his helmet?"

The Doctor trailed off. "Excuse me?"

The Commander stared at her with those large, emerald orbs, like a child begging for candy. "Please? Since I tore a lung, piece of liver and twelve muscles saving him?"

Doctor Chakwas rolled with her eyes. She should have seen this coming, really. Since Cerberus had resurrected her, she had gone through the total sum of zero changes. She was still the same eccentric, peculiar little Adept that the Alliance had warned her about on the original _Normandy,_ all those years ago.

So how could she say no?

"Of course," she said with an exasperated sigh. "But proceed with caution." To Mordin, she said, "I have almost finished with the deep scan, but there are some peculiar results. Could you take a look at these graphs for me?"

The salarian nodded and reached for her holographic display, which contained all the scans and images she had performed and made in the past hour. "Of course. When will surgery start?"

"In a moment." Chakwas watched the Commander remove the soldier's helmet, revealing a pale but distinctively-human face. Scarred, but still handsome, in a rugged kind of way. "Hmm…it appears the Commander was right on the money. The Master Chief is a human indeed."

"Human nature of soldier deeply unsettling. Alliance military unable to forge powered armor of this quality." Mordin fell silent as he glanced at the graphs, absorbing the sixty minutes' worth of data in twenty seconds.

"Look at you," Shepard muttered. She glanced at the soldier, then reached out and gently touched his left eye, where several wounds had already started to clot. "You have something to explain to me, mister."

Doctor Chakwas scraped her throat and the Commander looked over her shoulder like a deer caught in the headlights. "Commander Shepard. Having successfully undergone surgery does not mean you can start climbing on other patients. Please return to your seat."

The omni-tool strangely pulsated when near the Master Chief, oddly enough. Chakwas found it to be an odd thing indeed, that when the Commander moved back to her own bed, the pulsating stopped again.

Doctor Chakwas put that strange observation out of her head and focused on the task that lay at hand; the surgical procedure to keep the Master Chief alive. She had been operating on soldiers, both alien and human, ever since she had graduated from medical school, but the injuries that this man had sustained were grievous, even by her standards.

"Allow me to recap his actions once more," Chakwas said while Mordin administered another sedative to the soldier, just in case. "He was left behind on the Collector Cruisier and that was the last you saw of him. Then, the Collector vessel appears above New Campton in the middle of a batarian slave raid, only to fall apart in orbit due to presumed sabotage."

"Probably Master Chief-induced sabotage," Shepard added.

"Right…and then your Chief survived a fall from _orbit_ , woke up in the middle of the batarian assault and not only managed to survive for more than a day, but also muster an effective enough resistance for the batarians to resort to shelling the city with a warship."

"A warship he probably crashed afterwards," Shepard cheekily said.

"Let us not presume things that we cannot know, shall we, Commander? Surviving planetary bombardment is one thing, but boarding and crashing the Heavy Frigate that initiated it is a completely different thing."

Shepard shrugged. "Tali smashed the bridge with the observation drone. Might've been that, too."

"Oh, yes, I shall not forget to top off my summary with the observation of your helmet camera footage that the Chief survived being rammed with a Mako. Did I miss anything important, hmm?"

The Commander laid back on her bed, clutching her side. "Nope…well, unless you take into account his wounds from holding off hordes of Harbingers and zombies aboard the Collector ship before he even fell from orbit. Huh…strangest sentence I've said today."

Karin nodded. "I see. Thank you, Commander. We will commence the surgery now."

Truthfully, Doctor Chakwas was very relieved that the Commander was back to her exotic self. The initial loss of the Master Chief had weighed on her heart heavily enough, but to add in another attack on a human colony? There were a few things in the galaxy that could properly rile Shepard up and batarian slavers were one of them.

The surgery hadn't even been underway for a quarter of an hour when Doctor Chakwas found herself having to stop. Something was amiss.

"Mordin," the Doctor muttered, taking a good look at the charts again. "This isn't right."

"Biochemical enhancement procedure evident. Biomechanical augmentations invasive enough to kill subject halfway through. Manipulation of body beyond even salarian ability. Not product of Alliance military."

Shepard looked on with worry, but Chakwas had more pressing issues to attend to. "Mordin, I am detecting faint EM signatures emanating from the subject. His armor?"

"Not armor. EM signatures coming from brain and nervous system. Cybernetic implants… " The salarian doctor took a deep breath. "Fascinating."

"The scans show that the subject has been heavily augmented," said Chakwas. "His bones, his nervous system, even his muscular system."

"All cognitive and physical aspects of body altered. Would put Miranda's father to shame," smiled Mordin.

"Guess that puts the 'super' in super-soldier," commented Shepard. "I have a question. If Miranda's modifications were the best money could buy and she's Miranda…then how come the Chief is…well, the Master Chief?"

It was an excellent question. Genetic modification was still a difficult subject within the alliance military and most soldiers only received basic modifications. But a procedure as invasive as this… "I have no clue. His injuries are extreme. The Master Chief has suffered major internal bleeding. From what I can see on the scans, the source would be bleeding in his liver and a moderate laceration of his right lung."

Mordin continued. It appeared both of them had a penchant for thinking aloud. "Three cracked ribs, fractured finger on left hand and torn muscles around right ankle. Pattern suggest impact at high speed. Left shoulder has dislocated and reinserted incorrectly. Pinching off blood vessels."

Dear lord…the list went on! "Local insertion of med-gel in abdomen suggests that the Chief attempted to patch himself up. It stopped the moderate bleeding at one point, but the wounds reopened after he took another heavy blow."

"Brain scan revealed major concussion. Internal lacerations, some bullets still lodged inside body. Armor-piercing, blew through weakened section of power armor. Lacerations caused by splintering of unknown substance. Wait! Unknown substance in fact part of fractured ribs. Glad to know clear cause."

"Ribs don't cause lacerations when they crack, Mordin," corrected Chakwas.

"Intriguing…run test on substance. Hypothesize advanced material grafted onto skeletal structure, in accordance with biomechanical augmentation."

"His _bones_ lacerated his organs when they cracked?" asked Chakwas. "I will run the test later."

As the salarian continued the operation, preferring to run it by hand instead of trusting the machines of the recovery beds, Chakwas inserted several camera probes into the breaches of the armor, to get a clear view on its insides. Both the soldier's armor as his augments were beyond what the Alliance could produce and she wanted to know where they came from. Even Cerberus could not hope to attain this level of augmentations, otherwise they would have employed them by now, be it with Shepard or with Miranda.

It made sense, really. Karin had performed so many surgeries in her life that she knew the human body inside out. Granted, many of those times were Jane. This soldier, whoever he was, had been heavily augmented by his government. His physique, his musculature, his skeletal structure…none of it was a product of natural evolution. Biological limits did not allow for them.

It took the salarian at least another half hour to complete the surgery, but when he did, he seemed to consider it a personal achievement. "Ah. Chief's vital signs stabilizing! Body healing, excellent. Have removed most of foreign materials."

"So how is he?" asked Shepard. "Is he gonna be okay?"

"It was a wonder he was still alive, Commander. With injuries like those, I doubt even Urdnot Wrex would have survived."

"Master Chief stable for the moment. Do not expect him conscious for next twenty-four hours. Suggest you take rest too, Shepard. Biotic exhaustion and physical damage enough to render asari commando's unconscious."

Yes, that reminded Karin of something else. "Commander, there seems to be a small problem. It appeared as if you were assisting Samara and Jack in lifting the Master Chief, _biotically."_

"Indeed. Will excuse myself now; need to run tests on foreign substance. Lecturing Shepard considered as counterproductive to research. Good luck, Shepard. Will need it."

"Traitor," Shepard angrily whispered as the salarian left. She then seemed to realize that she was alone with the doctor and immediately switched gears to 'innocent victim'. "Who, me?" Shepard tried to wave away the accusation, but the fear in her eyes was apparent. "Of course not! That would be-"

"Completely irresponsible! You know you can't push yourself like that! Think about the consequences of your actions for once! You're not a child anymore, Shepard!"

Shepard listened to Doctor Chakwas lecturing her with all the attention of a little girl who had been caught doing something she wasn't allowed to. But then, for some reason, she seemed to shift her focus to something behind Karin.

"What are you even-"

"Good morning, Chief!"

 _What?_

~0~

* * *

Somewhere between the state of consciousness and unconsciousness, the Master Chief thought he was dreaming. He was hearing voices, sometimes vague, sometimes loud.

"It was a wonder he was still alive, Commander. With injuries like those…"

Suddenly the voice faded away. Exhaustion took over his senses, pressing down on him like a smothering carpet. But something within him stirred, and he struggled to remain, in fact, conscious.

"…irresponsible! You know you can't push yourself like that! Think about the…"

The voice belonged to a female, he realized. A mature one, that he failed to recognize.

His mind categorized it is an unknown and slowly, he slipped away into darkness again. He was so tired, so exhausted, that he almost could have ignored the bright light that stung his eyes…

Light. Voices.

 _Cortana._

The Master Chief woke with a start. Awake, however, was a slight overestimation of his condition. Somewhat aware was a better description. Even so, memories of the ground assault rushed back to him. Clearing outposts in the night, facing off an entire army in the day. His movements hindered by the little girl he had vowed to protect.

Pain shot through his body and he cramped up, unable to move a muscle without aggravating his wounds. At least he was still alive. He couldn't feel his MJOLNIR -not all of it, at least.

He opened his eyes and was blinded by the sudden brightness of his surroundings. He blinked away the blurriness and slowly adjusted to the light. He was lying in a med bay. The lights had been toned up, way too high. But the pressure against his back was comfortable, meaning that he had been recovered by people who had at least been caring enough to think about his comfort.

The light were too bright. His visor should have polarized by now.

Wait. Where was his visor?

The realization hit him with the force of a 7,62mm round; he wasn't wearing his helmet. In fact, several pieces of his armor had been removed, including a section of his thoracic plate. An entire section of his chest was bare and exposed. Even the undersuit had been cut away.

Alarmed, he tried to get up, but his chest ached in protest and he was forced to lie down again.

"That's not right…" That same voice said. "He's not supposed to wake up this soon. Mordin gave him enough meds to keep Grunt down for the better part of the journey."

"Told you he was special."

"Commander, please, would you just stay still!"

It took John a few moments to realize that the woman had addressed him. He turned his head towards the source of her voice.

Human. Female. Grey hair and wrinkles. Indicative of advanced age. In her right hand she held a holographic display, in her left a large needle. She glared at him with disapproval.

The Chief glared back, taking note of the needle. Who was this woman? The field medic?

As he rapidly took in his surroundings, he noticed that he wasn´t the only person in a recovery bed. There, on the bed next to him, sat a young woman with red hair and green eyes.

Commander Shepard.

Monitors and holographic displays were attached to her bed just like his. She wore a mixture between a hospital gown and military fatigues, but she seemed utterly relaxed. Her body was slender, but not petite. Muscled, fit. Lean.

Her feet slowly kicked against the edge of her bed, like she was an excited child.

Despite the somewhat contradictory image, he felt relieved to see her, and he felt the tension in his muscles slowly ebb away. Her appearance went coupled with memories he couldn't fully place. Bursts of blue and red light, explosions and a beautiful figure, perched atop the turret of hostile armor.

His safety, however, was not his immediate concern.

"Where is she?" he asked. Croaked was more like it. He felt blood coat the inside of his throat and his mouth was so dry that he felt like drinking a gallon of coolant fluid.

"Right here," Shepard cryptically said. She was smiling as she looked at him, even though there were at least two IV drips attached to her wrist. She had been injured too? How?

The Master Chief felt his exhaustion increase, but so did his anxiety. "Commander, the batarians took my friend. I have to-"

"Don't worry John," she said, stunning the Spartan into silence. "I took care of that. The good Doctor wants a word with you, first."

The Master Chief would have protested, but the Commander had called him by his name. Only his fellow Spartans called him by name.

His Spartans, and Cortana.

That required his immediate attention. What was going on here?

Confused, he shifted his gaze to the impatient woman he presumed to be the Doctor. "I'm fine," he brusquely told her. "Commander, I need-"

"Fine?" He was cut off for the second time in ten seconds. Judging by the way the doctor talked, she would not have a third time. Her expression was stern and her voice demanded absolute silence on his part. "Please, you are anything but fine."

With that, she unfolded several chards, placed her holographic display at his feet and scraped her throat. "I don't know who in their right mind would create power armor with integrity equaling that of a starship's hull, but it took sixty minutes, our most gifted engineer and three drones to remove even a small portion. Your injuries were severe enough to kill a lesser man twice over!"

The Master Chief was taken aback by the fierceness of this woman. It was always the doctors. "I was fighting to locate my partner," he replied.

But it wasn't just that. He had been fighting to protect, too. To keep someone safe, away from the harm that had befallen her family. He didn't quite remember everything. Some parts were missing, He must have suffered a concussion.

The little girl. Alice. "There was someone down there with me," he then said. "A young girl. Did she make it?"

The doctor frowned, then looked at Shepard for confirmation. A dark look crossed Shepard's eyes and she looked away.

"The batarians issued an air strike. You were the only survivor."

Alice had been killed by the assault. He remembered the buildings falling apart, the young girl screaming…

"Acknowledged," he said as graciously as he could muster. He was unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice. It didn't strike him as odd that he was so affected by the death of a civilian. After all, he had promised her that he would keep her safe. He had failed.

"I'm sorry, Chief," Shepard said. She then stood up -earning herself a glare from the medic that could have stopped a plasma bolt in its tracks. She didn't seem to notice it though. She moved to the Chief's side and sat down next to his bed. "But you gave the batarians one hell of a fight down there. You bought the Alliance time to attend to their losses and for that, you have my gratitude."

The Master Chief remained silent. He felt like there was something that Shepard was leading up to, and he wasn't mistaken.

"But it appears we have a little problem right now. Two, actually. One problem is never enough. You see, you being human presents me with some impossibilities. Also, your partner is an advanced Artificial Intelligence and those are very illegal in Citadel space. Illegal as in, to be decommissioned upon sight."

Decommissioned. Murdered.

The Spartan tensed up. She hadn't -she wouldn't.

Shepard smirked. "Isn't that right, Cortana?"

A figure came forth from the Commander's blue omni-tool, one that the Chief instantly recognized. "Cortana?" He all but whispered.

"Chief!" The small, holographic display of his closest friend cried out. "She found you!" She paused, taking a moment to observe his many wounds and injuries. "They hurt you."

John's relief was mitigated by the Commander's choice of words. Cortana was alive and unharmed, but…AI's were illegal in Council space? Decommissioning upon sight…they would execute her. He wouldn't let them take her again. Twice he had lost her. Never again. "What happened to you? Did they harm you?"

"I couldn't wake you. The impact -they found and pulled me, again! Locked me away...in the most _primitive_ of systems!" Cortana halted, as if processing something. Then, in a rather sadistic tone, she added, "But I was one step ahead of them."

"Yeah, that's probably the reason AI's are illegal," replied Shepard. "She vented the ship, murdering all the batarians onboard."

"Good," said the Chief. He glanced back at Cortana, taking note of the concern on her face, the way the omni-tool projected her appearance as well. Had Shepard willingly allowed her in, or had she hitched a ride? Shepard knew of Cortana's relation to the Chief, knew of her existence. She wouldn't do anything to harm them, that wasn't what she was like.

But could he be sure? In this galaxy, everyone was a threat. "What happens next?"

The Commander looked down at Cortana as well. The AI looked up at Shepard and smiled, as if knowing something John didn't. "Another AI on the _Normandy…_ my crew is going to hate me. Garrus, Tali…poor Mordin. He'll have a stroke if he hears of this. Miranda will be on you like a hound."

The Master Chief frowned. "Commander. If Cortana is not welcome, I should take her and leave this ship."

Shepard sat back on her bed, and crossed her legs, still appearing unconcerned. She still had Cortana. "Yeah, but I don't want you to leave. I lost you once, already."

"Nobody is taking Cortana," growled the Chief.

"That's the thing. I don't want to send her away, either. What about you, Cortana? Do you want to leave?"

Cortana glanced up at Shepard and then wordlessly shook her head. What was going on between those two?

"Then it's decided," Shepard cheerfully called. "You two will both be staying." She then proceeded to completely baffle the Chief and reached out for Cortana's avatar with a bandaged hand, as if stroking her. She did it so absentmindedly that there could have been no malicious intent driving her. "Of course, you two will have to work to keep it a secret."

The Master Chief raised an eyebrow and glanced at the Doctor, who was pinching the bridge of her nose in the physical representation of the thought 'are you kidding me'.

Shepard followed his gaze and saw the Doctor too. "Oh, right. Doctor Chakwas, this is the Master Chief. His real name is John, but Cortana said that he doesn't like it when people call him that, so we should keep that a secret."

The Doctor turned to glare at the Commander, who frowned ever so slightly in return. "Oh, and Cortana is a secret too."

The Master Chief looked at Cortana with a faint sense of unease. Shepard had a…strange way of commanding her subordinates. Was she usually like this?

"Commander, are you certain you did not pop a brain vessel?" Doctor Chakwas then said, prompting Shepard to adopt a very cautious attitude.

"Ehm…Karin? I was serious."

The Doctor gave the Commander a look that reduced the biotic angel of destruction into an intimidated child. "So was I. Be it a brain aneurysm or a cerebral infarction from overtaxing your biotics, you failed to immediately contact me with the symptoms."

"I didn't feel them!"

Cortana looked at the Chief, who shrugged and continued observing. There were arguments you didn't get in-between, even as a Spartan.

"Couldn't feel them? Jack had to point out that you were coughing up blood! Are you telling me that _Jack_ mixed up the symptoms of biotic exhaustion?"

The Commander muttered something under her breath.

"I didn't think so. You and the Master Chief are going to stay here for as long as is necessary. I am certain that the… _two_ of you will have a lot to discuss."

"Yes doctor Chakwas…"

The Doctor looked back at the Chief. "The medication we gave you ought to help stave off the pain. If you feel any discomfort, don't hesitate to give a call."

The Master Chief nodded. "Yes ma'am."

And with that, Doctor Chakwas left, leaving the Spartan and the Commander alone.

Silence consumed the room as the two of them stared at each other, Shepard with a hint of amusement and the Master Chief with stern anticipation. It was Cortana who broke that silence. "I think I speak for both of us, Jane, when I say, thank you."

The Master Chief allowed himself to close his eyes and relax. His mind, though sluggish, still processed the situation with much more speed and efficiency than any normal human would. Cortana had been taken from him by the batarians. They had taken her off-planet, into one of their Frigates. There, they had made the mistake of plugging her into the system, resulting in their immediate death via decompression of the ship. Shepard had retrieved her before hitting the colony.

Where she had proceeded to single-handedly fight off the rest of the batarian ground forces, getting him out of a very bad situation. How much had Cortana revealed to her?

"You can thank me by helping me figure something out," replied Shepard. John noticed that her omni-tool was still active even though she wore nothing than that tightly-fitting gown. No armor to support it. Subdermal implants? "You, John, are one hell of a soldier."

The Master Chief remained silent. He just now realized that, if he was lying in the medical bay with such extensive injuries, they must have performed surgery on him.

Surgery. They had most likely stumbled across his augmentations. The highly-classified information buried deep within his body, belonging to the Office of Naval Intelligence. _He_ belonged to the Office of Naval Intelligence. These people did not have the clearance to know about him.

But Shepard…she was an enigma. This ship, the _Normandy,_ belonged to her. And this group of mercenaries and soldiers she was gathering, seemed utterly loyal to her. And now, she had Cortana too. She would give her back, he knew that, but…even then, he was utterly beholden to her whims. He did not know how to feel about that.

"The amount of punishment you took? No human would have survived it. No normal human, at least."

She was playing with him. That was her style, the way she ensured her command. There was nothing he could say in response, so he remained silent.

"Then again, you're not really normal, are you? Don't worry, nobody on my ship is. Normal's boring. Guess that's why Grunt doesn't like Jacob…still, not many of us can survive a fall from orbit."

Commander Jane Shepard was a perceptive woman. Hidden behind her strange mannerisms, she possessed a keen mind.

"So when were you going to tell me that you came from a different humanity?"

~0~

* * *

 **Deck 2: CIC**

As Miranda Lawson made her way towards the Combat Information Center to discuss the appearance of four batarian Frigates above the same colony that the Collectors had taken an interest in, she found herself in a situation more deserving of her attention.

Or rather, a situation more interesting to her.

Doctor Mordin Solus exited the elevator, holding a datapad and muttering something to himself. The old STG veteran was subtle enough to keep his voice low enough so that others couldn't overhear him, but Miranda still caught what he said. She would thank her augmented sense of hearing for that.

"Alliance unable to produce augments invasive enough to warrant survival of orbital drop…need to run test on armor…"

Operative Lawson smiled. "Hello Mordin," she innocently greeted him.

"Ah, Miranda. Question: mister Lawson spared no expense in your genetic upgrades?"

Miranda blinked, taken aback by the sudden question. Why the sudden interest in augmentations? "No. My father is a wealthy man; he wanted to make sure his progeny was in possession of augments that exceeded those of the Alliance military. Why?"

"Hmm…hypothesis confirmed. Non-Alliance origin. Ah…Shepard maintaining clandestine operation!" He scraped his throat. "No particular reason…"

That last line was delivered so dryly, so calmly, that it couldn't possibly have been _his_ thought. Shepard wanted to keep secrets from her? About possible non-Alliance vectors?

Well…she could trust the Commander with that.

At least, she could, had this not been a rather unusual situation. The retrieval of the Master Chief from New Campton was reason enough for her to readjust her opinion of him, as well as reevaluate the information she had gleaned from him.

The bugs she had planted had failed to report in, strangely enough.

"You performed surgery on the Master Chief, didn't you?" Miranda pointed out, walking after the old salarian towards his lab.

"Silly hypothesis; Doctor Chakwas more than capable of handling one wounded soldier."

Miranda crossed her arms and glared at Mordin. "You have some bloodstains on your coat."

The salarian glanced down at his outfit and then sighed. "Need for sanitizing procedures outside surgery increases. Very well. Commander Shepard has proven very protective of Master Chief. Questions regarding details surrounding his surgery are to be directed at her."

Operative Lawson scowled. "Mordin, as Shepard's second-in-command, I need to be aware of potential threats."

The salarian gave her a quirky smile. "Jack still moping around in Engineering. Grunt still celebrating rite of passage. Sum of breeding requests got to his head."

"You know what I mean. You said something about non-Alliance augmentations-"

The salarian inhaled sharply. "Did not."

Miranda could _feel_ Jane all over that remark. How couldn't she, when the Commander had given her that exact same retort every single time she had accused her of something? "Yes you did. Did you mean alien? Did the salarians experiment on this Master Chief?" Then, to further push Mordin in a corner she added, "Doctors shouldn't lie, Mordin."

"Can safely confirm that salarians did not experiment on Chief."

"Turians then? Asari?"

"Hmm…cannot confirm that turians or asari did not perform experiments on Chief."

He couldn't confuse her. Not when she was very aware of the current progress within alien augmentations; the turians generally frowned upon genetic or biological changes to their soldiers and the asari did not allocate enough resources to that research. It left only the salarians as a potential non-Alliance vector within the Master Chief's miraculous survival.

"You know, I saw the Master Chief in action on Illium," she said. "And I saw him dodge bullets there. Do you know how sharp your reflexes have to be to dodge bullets?"

"Yes. Depending on speed and position of shooter and combatant, increase of four-hundred percent capability necessary to dodge at moderate distances. All conjecture, of course."

"Mordin, I _know_ that the soldier is augmented," Miranda said, having decided to simply cut the knot. "You said non-Alliance origin, remember? Do you understand what that means?"

"Shepard's implications quite clear. Human non-Alliance origin. Fascinating ideas, the Commander."

Miranda shook her head. "I personally wrote the report to The Illusive Man describing the Master Chief's death aboard the Collector Vessel."

"Thought Shepard meant to write the reports?"

Lawson sighed in annoyance and brushed a strand of black hair out of her eyes. "She's _meant_ to write them, yes. Apparently, being Second-in-Command means having to write your CO's papers. Nevertheless, he stayed behind on the Collector Vessel. There were _thousands_ of Collectors in there. Mordin, you accompanied Shepard on Horizon, you _know_ the horrors that the Collectors made!"

The salarian didn't respond.

"There is no way he survived in that ship on his own," continued Miranda. "And if you believe your own theories, there is _no_ way his augmentations are human-origin."

Now the salarian looked at her, with a sudden glare. "Insinuating Master Chief built with Collector tech? Reaper sleeper agent, sent to eliminate Shepard again? No, impossible. Scanned tech, did not find Collector origin. Chief obviously not Collector Husk."

Miranda crossed her arms. "Why else would we discover that derelict after Horizon, but before our raid on the Collector?"

"Theory fails to explain destruction of Collector vessel above New Campton, nor Chief's extreme violence against batarian slavers."

"Anything could explain that, really. I suggest we personally ask him. Where is he now?"

Mordin was about to reply, then stopped himself. "Ah. Problematic."

Miranda raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"In medical bay-"

"Then we find Shepard."

"-alone with Shepard."

Miranda cursed, then immediately went for the elevator, with Mordin hot on her heels."

~0~

* * *

Jane would have eagerly listened with keen interest to John's story, but there was a small problem that prevented her from listening. Apart from the constant stinging of her recently-fixed organs.

He didn't talk.

The soldier lay in his bed, glaring at her with those unnaturally-blue eyes of his. Grunt's eyes were rare for his species, but she had never seen such a bright shade within human eyes before.

His eyes were augmented too.

A super-soldier with full-body modifications. Jane liked to consider herself one of the most peak-fit humans in the galaxy, what with the constant running and fighting she went through.

Well, she liked to consider herself that way when she wasn't busy dreaming about the days before Cerberus had to bring her back from the dead.

But she was damn good. Still, she didn't doubt for one moment that the Master Chief could kill her with his bare hands.

Not that he ever would.

The little AI appeared from her omni-tool once more, using the integrated holographic displays and flash-forging hardware to build herself an avatar within a micro-second. "The cat's out of the bag, Chief. Might as well tell her the whole story."

"I like whole stories," replied Jane.

Faced with the beautiful AI's not-so-subtle prodding, the super-soldier was helpless. "Whole story isn't my specialty."

Cortana placed her hands on her hips. "Oh, right. Sure. Fresh from being kidnapped by batarian slavers and you already boss me around again?"

To borrow one of Mordin´s favorite words, the AI´s manner of acting was _fascinating_. EDI was a popsicle compared to Cortana, who chippered away with sarcasm and rhetoric remarks like she was human. It was strange as well. Even her avatar was human in appearance.

It was also naked, but Shepard wouldn't complain.

"Don't pretend you don't like it," the Chief wearily replied. Jane was absolutely certain that this man was not only completely human, but also completely soldier. The times she had seen them joke away about their own injuries, pretend like nothing was wrong…such a _human_ thing to do. And while she wasn't as fine-tuned as Samara was, she still had her sensing moments. There was no malicious intent within the Chief _at all_. He was a walking, breathing killer machine, but he was also just a soldier, doing his job.

Apart from his overwhelming concern for Cortana´s welfare. That went a bit beyond duty. But who was she to judge?

"Ouch. Should have seen that one coming."

And EDI was installed inside the entire ship! The entire _Normandy_! That was like, a hundred feet of AI matrix. How did she fit within a chip the size of her thumb? And _how_ could a chip built for the back of the Chief's helmet fit inside her omni-tool? This wasn't Alliance tech, but it couldn't be Council tech either.

More arguments that demanded the existence of a second group of mankind.

Cortana turned towards Jane. "I have been scanning the various galactic maps as well as the extranet. Nothing that points towards our existence. Our mankind never evolved here; the Alliance mankind did. It's like we found an alternate version of history."

"So, did we end up in an alternate universe?" said the Chief.

"That's the concussion talking, Chief. No, we did not end up in an alternate universe, because something like isn't physically possible. At least, not without two hours of explanation on quantum mechanics."

"You're a feisty one," remarked Jane.

The lines of code that ran across Cortana's extremities seemed to hitch, if only for a second. "Thanks. A girl tries. No, I believe that our humanity- the UNSC one- evolved in a region of space not normally mapped within this galaxy. The most accurate readings and analyses I found were also the most classified ones. Basically, the entire upper arm of the galaxy, beyond the Terminus Systems. For conversational purposes, I shall refer to that section of unmapped space as the Forerunner Arm."

"Unmapped space," said Jane. "That means there are no Mass Relays pointing to your home, or that the Relays that do, are all dormant. Hmm…homecoming will be difficult then. What-"

Cortana suddenly disappeared before Jane could finish her sentence and it wasn't hard to imagine why. John heard it, too. The bickering voices of one salarian doctor and one Miranda Lawson.

Goodie. Hospital visits already. But hadn't Doctor Chakwas sealed off the medical bay? Then why the visit?

When she saw Miranda pulling her pistol out, she knew that there was something wrong.

In the brief, confusing moments after which Miranda entered the medical bay, Shepard could feel her headache peek its head of its hiding spot again.

"Commander!"

"Miranda?"

"Shepard!"

"Mordin!"

"Drop the weapon!"

"Stay down!"

"Ah, super-soldier awake. Advice extreme caution!"

The resulting krogan-standoff made her feel like she was back on the Citadel again, chasing after Saren and his goons.

Miranda, armed with a pistol, aimed at the Chief, Mordin did the same with his omni-tool. Chief pointed a scalpel that Jane could have sworn had not been present in his vicinity at Miranda's face and Shepard found herself pointing her own omni-tool at Mordin's.

It was so unfair! Right when Cortana had gotten to the juicy part!

"How about we all stop aiming our guns at our friends, alright?" said Jane.

"Commander!" Miranda replied, clearly not viewing the Chief as a friend. "The Master Chief is augmented? By non-human parties? Has it crossed your mind that the only group capable of such surgical precision are the Collectors?"

Jane's patience was tested. And unlike Gatagog Uvenk, Miranda did not invoke correctly. "Mordin! What happened to doctor-patient confidentiality?"

"Never breached it! Operative Lawson deduced conclusions herself!"

Jane could _growl_ at her Second-in-Command at this point. She nearly did. "It is not _nice_ to listen in on people who have issues with keeping their thoughts inside their heads, Miranda! Especially not when your hearing is augmented as well!"

"Duly noted Commander, but the Master Chief has to be considered a threat until we can verify his origins!"

The Cerberus-augmented operative was having problems with the human-augmented Master Chief simply because his origins were different? This was way beyond petty jealousy. "Miranda, the Chief was about to explain his origins to me before you barged in here with your gun!" Shouted Jane. Biotic exhaustion weighed down on her emotional stability like a smothering carpet and she was finding it very difficult to control her anger. "If Doctor Chakwas hadn't ordered me to take it easy. I would have taken your gun and jammed it up your-"

"Shepard, misunderstanding regarding source of augmentations," interrupted Mordin. Just in time, too. "Operative Lawson concerned for your health, feared Master Chief's survival at Collector ship due to allegiance."

Shepard pinched the bridge of her nose with frustration. Simply making sense of a secondary evolution point of mankind was taxing enough. "Right. You know what? After Chief and I are done, and after he has recovered from his recent _surgical procedure_ , you two can have a nice chat and then you can write a report to Tim. Until then, I recommend you turn around."

Miranda frowned and looked over her shoulder, coming face-to-face with Doctor Chakwas, who looked like she was ready to skin a Thresher Maw with a scalpel.

Now it was Jane's turn to feel smug.

The resulting conflict took Miranda, Mordin and Doctor Chakwas back to the operative's office next to the mess hall, leaving behind a confused Chief and a very exhausted Jane.

"If my presence here is a cause for conflict…" started the wounded soldier.

"Your best friend is a capital offense. Miranda being pissy is the last thing I worry about. She means well, but she has a gun up her ass that, ironically, makes her a good match for the turians."

Now that the coast was clear, Cortana reappeared again. It was a good thing that the interior of the medical bay could be polarized; Mordin figuring out about a non-Alliance AI aboard the Normandy would be bad for his heart. Him finding out at the same time as Miranda? The poor Doctor's heart would stop then and there.

"Where was I? Oh yes, UNSC home space beyond the impassable pirate regions. By our count, the year is 2553 or 2554. We're not sure."

Jane raised an eyebrow. "You installed yourself in my omni-tool in the time it took me to sneeze; how do you not know what year it is?"

Cortana glanced at the Chief. "There ehm…were complications. You see, when you found the Chief and I aboard the wreckage of the _Forward Unto Dawn_ , we were kind of cut in half by a collapsing portal."

Jane reached out for her medicine, certain that she had missed the 'auditory hallucination' side effect. "A portal, huh? Mind explaining that one to me?"

Cortana smirked. "That's just the easy part. I've been skimming through the history of your species, Shep'. Your history is very different from ours, but your home system, sol? It's an exact match for ours. Of course, your gas giants are smaller and then there's the whole Element Zero thing…"

"Let's start at the beginning," said the Master Chief. He should have looked a whole lot less grumpy without his suit, but here he was, looking grumpy. It wasn't hard to figure out why though. If she understood it correctly, he had gone through hell on New Campton. Losing someone you promised to protect was something you never got used to.

Cortana looked at him for a few moments, looking anxious. "Are you sure you shouldn't rest, Chief? The _Normandy_ crew barely managed to pull you away from death."

Jane looked back and forth at Cortana and John, wondering why a single soldier was paired up with an AI so advanced that she could pilot an entire Cruiser on her own, let alone a suit of powered armor. It struck her that Cortana's concern for the Chief was not really normal for an Artificial Intelligence. It was emotion-lead, not rational-led. Nothing wrong with that, but…an AI with genuine concern for a human? That was something she wasn't really sure about yet.

So if the two of them had such strong attachments to each other, what was she doing carrying Cortana around in her omni-tool? This was obviously a subject of importance to the Chief. She could always discuss this later, when he had recovered from his wounds.

"So what's the deal between you two?" She then asked. "How did an augmented super-soldier and an advanced AI get paired up together?"

Cortana sighed. "It's a… _very_ long story."

Jane shrugged. "Can you let me in on it?"

~0~

* * *

 **UNSC Forward Unto Dawn**

 **Unknown section of space**

Operator Faredon whistled as he passed by the armory, where someone had very clearly cleaned shop. All the weapon lockers were empty, all the guns had been taken and even the last bits of ammo had been scraped off the ground. "Damn, this armory is big. How much soldiers did they need to arm?"

Operator Invidia wandered past him, holding a data-pad and looking unimpressed. "Can you stop complimenting the derelict human vessel, please? It's not that impressive."

"Not impressive?" replied Faredon. "Woman, you are standing on a human warship with armor rivalling that of a turian Heavy Cruiser."

Operator Invidia did not even bother look at her human partner. "So? From what the technicians have gathered, this tub lacks shields. How will it hold up to said Heavy Cruiser without kinetic barriers?"

"I don't think it even needs kinetic barriers with armor plating like this," countered Faredon. "Have you seen how thick it is?"

"Have you?"

"No, but our technicians did. It's thick."

"How thick?"

The operator glanced at his own data-pad. "Sixty centimeters. It increases the closer to the engines you get, up to 100 centimeters."

"Really? I mean…a ship doesn't just need armor!" said Operator Invidia. "The _Destiny Ascension's_ main gun can rip through this ship's armor in no-time. What armaments does this vessel have?"

Operator Faredon shrugged. "Let me see…oh, that is right. It was cut in half vertically. Whatever sort of barrel was mounted at the front of the ship, we'll never figure out."

"Barrel? How do you mean?"

"This half of the ship is 150 meters wide and 130 meters high. Estimates at the total size were put at 400 meters. We found a structure that looks like a section of a railgun, starting near the back."

Operator Invidia grunted. "Four-hundred meters of railgun? Tsk…Humans…still no traces of Element Zero then?"

"No. Nothing; our technicians are still working on getting the power back online. The command bridge is nowhere to be found, most likely belonging to the other half of the ship. What we have here is the aft section."

"A ship of this size can theoretically oppose the Council's ships," said Operator Invidia. "What about the engines? No Element Zero means no Mass Effect drive."

"We found four structures near the engines of the derelict, at the back. Two large, two small. "

Operator Invidia nodded at that and returned her focus to her own data-pad. "Still no data as to what this thing actually is…"

"What _do_ we know? Apart from the fact that it slaughtered the asari that attempted to whisper it away, of course."

"Well, the Broker seems to think that we aren't the only ones after this thing. The Justicar Order has been stirred up like a hornet's nest. Apparently, someone is trying to get to Tevos."

"The asari Councilor? I always like Tevos…"

Operator Invidia snorted. "You would, wouldn't you?"

"Well, Sparatus is too skeptical and Valern is an ass."

"Skeptical? You mean you believe that story about the Reapers?"

"You don't?"

Operator Invidia rolled with her eyes. Fruitlessly, as operator Faredon couldn't see that through her helmet. "Of course I do. Some human woman appears in front of the Council, foaming and screaming something about an armada of sentient machines coming to kill us purely because the geth had a flagship? What's not to believe."

"I'm no stranger to sarcasm, Invidia"

"Good. Then let us drop this mindless conversation and get to the point."

"You mean the Citadel?"

"Indeed. Judging by Shepard's profile, she will take it straight to the Citadel."

Operator Faredon sighed. "Don't tell me that the order is actually planning something?"

"I hope not. Their Huntresses didn't fare well the first time."

"Well, let us be fair here. Those Huntresses probably weren't the baddest of asses."

"Baddest of asses? Why must you humans insist on using such illogical explanations? They were but maidens. The next time, the serpent won't be wasting young asari lives."

"Unless she wants to disgrace Shepard."

"Unless she wants to disgrace Shepard. Then she will be wasting human lives."

Suddenly, the ship seemed to power up, as the lights flickered a few times and then stayed on, bathing the hallways in a pleasant light.

"What do you know, the technicians got this tub working."

What was less pleasant to the two operators was the voice that suddenly boomed through the ship's interior speakers. " _This is UNSC AI Serial Number CTN0452-9. If are hearing this, you must have reactivated the power. That means you have about five minutes to get out of this vessel before the reactors self-destruct. If you happen to be Covenant, allow me to translate this to your dialect. Blarg blarg blarg…dead."_

Faredon and Invidia looked at each other. Their translators had perfectly processed that particular message.

"How very ominous."

"Did that thing just say AI?"

"I would suggest we take our leave for now."

"Gee, you think?"


	13. Chapter 13: Storm

chapter 13, the Citadel. In this chapter we have foreshadowing, fan service and more action.

 _~0~_

* * *

 _"Solus was very clear on the matter. He testified that Commander Shepard herself interacted with the last Rachni queen, who swore that the Rachni Wars were not the will of the Rachni. While I would personally discredit the idea of these hypothetical Reapers brainwashing the Rachni into war, Solus specifically vouched for Shepard. Although Councilor Sparatus will definitely object, Councilor Valern secretly approves of the idea of organizing a recon fleet to scout for the right Relay. I'm worried about Tevos, however. She has expressed interest in researching dormant Relays as well…despite not knowing of this investigation. The STG is keeping a close eye, but…I'm not sure."_

 _\- Commander Rentola's logbook, entry 6_

~0~

* * *

 **Mil System**

 **Chalkhos**

 **Athame hospital**

In the few days since she had been taking care of the wounded human, Mirere Vani had learned a few interesting things. With the limited materials at her disposal, she had been able to run a few tests. Of course, preventing him from slipping into shock or getting infected by the airborne bacteria was of paramount importance. Luckily, the upper floors of the Athame hospital still had a spare sterilization field generator lying around. With it, she had been able to set up a relatively sterile environment.

The asari doctor sat down with a cup of coffee and glanced at her datapad. The subject was human, there was no doubt about that. Muscle physique suggested either a merc, or a soldier, age…forty something.

Any moron could tell such a thing at first glance. No, the things that Mirere had found out were a little bit more complicated than that. Apart from the completely foreign bacteria he had been carrying with him, which the program on her omni-tool had been unable to categorize, this man didn't have the body of a normal human.

Well, he did, but at the same time, he didn't. His muscles were denser, his bones sturdier. That suggested a washout Alliance soldier with gene mods…very, _very_ good gene mods. His minor injuries -the cuts and minor lacerations- had healed within a day. Three days sooner than her prognosis. Even the many bruises had all but faded away. There were plenty of scars on his body. Mirere had been forced to…change the man's clothes…into something a little less conspicuous than the strange green military fatigues.

Yes…a most interesting physique. Any scars, more than half of them of from…what looked like high-powered Incineration bolts.

The human had also woken up, a day or so after she had found him near the Prothean ruins. He hadn't talked to her- not with an oxygen mask covering the lower half his face- but she doubted he would have said anything to her, regardless.

Mirere had quickly stopped visiting him when it wasn't necessary. It was his eyes, those dark eyes of his. One look into them had washed away all her doubts that this man was a normal civilian, or a lowly merc. He was rock-solid.

One look into those dark, hard eyes of his and Mirere had known what drove the man. What dominated his instincts, dictated his life. Pure cold hatred.

Directed at her.

Goddess, he unnerved her. Mirere had worked with krogan patients, dealt with sociopathic Eclipse mercenaries and negotiated with a gang who had been solely intent on raping and killing her, not specifically in that order. But this man…he was of a completely different caliber.

The asari sighed and took a sip from her coffee. Of course it wasn't the real thing; true coffee and food was to come by on Chalkhos. Most of her food existed out of protein-blocks with artificially-added flavors and spices to give it the rough shape and taste of the thing it served to replace.

Now, the human's wounds were not caused by any Incineration tech attack. There were no residue particles, no sign of flammable omni-gel or otherwise leftover from the attack. That left something like a GARDIAN point defense laser aimed at his chest, or just a plain old high-powered mining laser.

She had several ideas as to how this human had gotten wounded at a Prothean structure. An accident or an attack. Maybe he had been trying to mine into the Prothean ruin on his own, only to accidentally and stupidly fall in front of his own laser, or someone had lent him a hand.

Maybe he was hired by a local gang for his expertise. Maybe he was a freelancer.

Mirere sighed. She didn't want the human to talk to her, but she had to know had happened to him. You didn't just end up with injuries like these at a place like this.

Her omni-tool buzzed with a message and she sighed. Was it that time already?

One look at her omni-tool verified it. It was that time..

She reached around, searching for the credit chit that she had steadily been pouring every single spare credit she had into.

It wasn't there.

Damnit.

Mirere sighed, remembering where she had last had it. _His_ room.

Great.

The asari doctor made her way towards the patient's room, silently hoping that he was sleeping again. That his ruined chest cavity and burned-up lung, together with a batch of sedatives, had finally put him to sleep, granting his body some well-needed rest.

She peered around the corner.

Nope. He was still awake. The moment -the _very_ moment- she had stuck her head around the corner, his head shifted ever so slightly.

He was glaring again.

Mirere ignored the burning awkwardness and silently told her nerves to calm down. She stepped into the room and started searching for the chit, knowing exactly what would happen to the clinic if she didn't pay off the Blue Suns.

She could basically feel his eyes burning a hole in her back and she sighed. "Look, I'm not your enemy, alright?" She told the human as she checked around the sterilization field generator. "I don't know what happened to you, but I'm the one who's trying to fix you up."

It wasn't there.

"So stop looking at me like that!"

Of course he didn't respond. In the meantime, Mirere plucked the credit chit away from underneath her chair and sighed in relief. She might have been an Eclipse mercenary in her youth, but that didn't mean she was a remorseless murderer. She cared for the people under her care, whether they had deserved their injuries or not. But if the Blue Suns stopped their protection racket, her hospital wouldn't last a week

Eclipse mercenaries would find out within the hour, arrive within a few days and burn down her clinic by the end of the week, with her and her patients still inside. Or worse. The Eclipse might contact _them…_

Providing the mercs with services was the only way she could get around. Selling equipment, tending to their wounded, providing information…it only prolonged the gang warfare here in the city, but what else could she do?

That was right, nothing. Nobody ever defied that group and lived.

Mirere shot one last glance at the human, whose glare had something accusing. As if _she_ had done _him_ a great injustice.

Unnerved, but still resolute, the asari doctor made her way towards her office, where the Blue Sun mercenaries would soon be visiting her. In the meantime, she would keep the human's room locked. If they recognized him as a victim of theirs, or worse, as someone who had been tinkering with the Prothean structure without their consent, they would execute him at the spot.

She couldn't help but wonder though. His clothes were completely foreign, yet undoubtedly military. Armored plating on his shoulders and limbs, pockets filled with military equipment that seemed ancient, yet strangely advanced and even ammunition clips for guns that krogans might have used a century back. Who was he to carry such strange gear?

And also, what was this pack of "Sweet Williams" that he carried with him?

~0~

* * *

 **Normandy SR-2**

 **Medical Bay**

Once more with feeling, Jane supposed. "So in this scenario of yours…we have two mankinds, one at the 'bottom' of the galaxy and one at the 'top' of the galaxy?"

"Yup," the little AI with the processing power and ethics to vent a populated ship replied.

"And my mankind eventually found the Mars archives with Prothean archives, while yours just…what, kept buggering on?"

"In essence. Admittedly, we could have made great use of such a discovery on our own, but I digress. We invented our own method of FTL, called the Shaw-Fujikawa Translight Engine, capable of making transitions to and from slipstream space and allowing our own FTL travel."

To Jane, this conversation was about as intriguing as it was confusing. "Slipstream space, huh? Sounds like a mouthful."

Cortana nodded. "We commonly refer to it is Slipstream, or Slipspace. Slipstream space is a specific set of eleven "nondimensions" which I am certain would baffle your biotic-stressed mind if I further explained it."

Jane chuckled. "Gee, I don't generally like having my biotic-stressed little head baffled, so please spare my insolent mind, would you?"

"Because you ask nicely. By your count, it is 2185. By ours, it is roughly 2553. Slipspace was 'invented' around 2291. After that, colonization became much easier."

The Commander shifted her weight to a less-painful spot and shot a glance at the Chief. For an augmented super-soldier, he looked rather cute when sleeping. If he was sleeping at all. The way she knew him by now, he was most likely waiting for something that needed his attention. Lying perfectly still…closed eyes, calm breathing…

Lovely picture.

A shame that she was starting to lose the bigger picture here. "We discovered Element Zero in 2148 'bout forty years ago. You discovered your method of FTL more than three centuries ago…or hundred years in the future. Alright. Man, this _is_ confusing. Does that mean your mankind evolved four-hundred years earlier than ours?"

"That, or we merely started recording our history a bit earlier. I am running a subroutine to compare our alternative histories together. Really fascinating…let´s go with the hypothesis that your mankind really is younger than ours. You only had one major world war, a lot less civil conflicts. Interesting how the name "Normandy" still popped up. And a shared language…still, it appears your version of mankind was either very lucky, or very level-headed."

Odd. If this UNSC has been colonizing for centuries, how come the Council had never encountered them? There couldn't be _that_ many fitting planets. "Yes. That. So, Cortana? If you started colonizing that long ago, how many colonies does your government now have? The Citadel should have noticed people ripping holes into reality to reach FTL. Also, this UNSC? What's the 'C' in there for? Command is a bit too military."

Cortana crossed her wrists behind her back. "At the height of our might, we had hundreds of inhabited colonies and even more outposts. I estimate about 200 thriving major worlds with a full-scale economy and industry. "

Uh-oh. "At the height of your might…what about now?"

Much to her surprise, Cortana didn't jump on explaining the C. In fact, it appeared as if a dark look crossed over her face. The lines of code running over her body even seemed to glitch.

Of course, the Chief didn't as much as flinch. He was awake now, but Jane had missed the moment he had opened his eyes.

"Hmm…at this point, I believe we have about fifty left. It might be less. In the end, even communications broke down."

Shepard got upright, despite her aching joints and burning limbs. "Wait…hold on a moment. You lost a hundred and fifty colonies? Just, gone? Holy shit, that's…I mean, _how_?"

"War," said the Master Chief. His harsh, gravelly voice sounded so weary.

Yes, Jane remembered their conversation about this Covenant and how they had been fighting for a very long time, but…damn, she didn't even know of a war that could cause so much death and destruction. Not since the destruction of the Prothean Empire and it had taken a race of ancient, sentient machines over a hundred years to do so.

"In 2525, we lost contact with one of our Outer Colonies called Harvest." Cortana disappeared. In her place appeared the globe of a beautiful-looking garden world. "Three million people called that world home. Isolated, but very productive, and so peaceful." She paused, and when she next spoke, her voice was laced with bitterness. "When UNSC scouts arrived, Harvest was gone."

"Gone?" Jane shifted uneasily. She knew that, during the Krogan Rebellions, krogan soldiers had crashed asteroids into turian worlds, rendering them inhospitable. But that was a dozen tops. "How do you lose a planet?"

The holographic display coming from her omni-tool changed. Gone were the fields and the hills, the oceans and the continents. What was left was cratered, molten wastelands and barren desserts. Entire countries glowed red and the glassy crust of the planet faintly reflected the light of a nearby sun.

"All inhabitants were lost," Cortana added.

Shepard placed a hand in front of her mouth and slowly inhaled through her nose. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, but she couldn't take her gaze off of her wrist, where the once-gorgeous world had been reduced to a smoldering ball of glass and dirt. So many lives lost…so many dead. She felt torn between horror and outrage.

"The only contact we found near Harvest was a single Covenant ship," said the Master Chief. This had to have happened nearly thirty years ago. Such a tragedy…no wonder the Chief was so incredibly focused on his task. No nation could forget a crime like this. How old had he been when he heard of the news? How old had he been when he signed up with the army?

"The Covenant ship immediately engaged the UNSC patrol and all but annihilated it," said Cortana. "Two ships were completely destroyed and the third managed to escape into Slipspace."

The soldier within Shepard took over from her humane side and she forced herself to see through the utter waste of life. "This was your first contact with alien species, wasn't it? What happened then?"

"We have a whole history of naval battles and ground conflicts, Shepard. The gist of it? Over the next few decades, the Covenant, with superior firepower and technology, overpowered our humanity on almost every world, swept aside our navy during every conflict. Aside from a few scattered but notable triumphs, the UNSC only won scattered and costly victories. The Covenant took world after world…but never kept them."

Shepard sighed and tore her eyes away from the floating hologram. "In just thirty years…this Covenant…they destroyed a hundred and fifty colonies? With the civilians on them?"

"More often than not with remaining military assets as well. Ultimate casualties exceeded the thirty billion."

Jane felt the desire to smash something. She remembered the Chief telling her that his war was over, that there was no urging military conflict he needed to return to. She had never thought…the mere scale of this conflict! It was completely unheard of, in all of Citadel history. The Krogan Rebellions _paled_ in comparison, and they lasted ten times longer. "Wait…this war isn't still happening, right? You won, didn't you?"

Cortana exchanged a look with the Chief. "Let's just say that in the last year, a series of very odd, very chaotic and very…costly events changed the course of the war."

"We didn't win," said the Chief. `We _survived_. Generals went to bed in charge of millions. Woke up in charge of hundreds."

"AI´s kept track of all communications. Sometimes, colonies would be destroyed so shortly after one another that messages sent from soldiers on the battlefield would arrive long after the planet they were sent from had been glassed. Or, the world said message was intended for."

"How come we never encountered any of them in our past?" Asked Jane. "Two-hundred thriving colonies beyond the Terminus. The Covenant must have had a massively outnumbering fleet, enough to threaten the Citadel Council's fleet."

She noticed the Master Chief reacting rather strikingly to her words. Nothing too overt, as the Chief seemed to be even worse at showing emotions than EDI was, but the signs were still there. A slight narrowing of his eyes, a tightness around his mouth.

Still, Jane's eyes were very sharp and she didn't miss a thing. "Sorry, did I say something wrong?"

Again, Cortana answered for the super-soldier. "Not technically. The Covenant did have an enormous armada, more than enough to overwhelm the Citadel defense fleet should they want to take the Citadel with force. However, it wasn't a war to the Covenant, but a campaign of genocide. They didn't allocate the brunt of their forces to the front like normal armed forces would."

The Commander frowned. "Wait, so did they overwhelm your world so completely if they didn't even bother to send in entire fleets?"

Cortana seemed to straighten her back, as if guarding herself from something. Again, a glitch ran through her body. Was it the omni-tool? "The UNSC was only capable of defeating the Covenant when outnumbering them three to one. One of our largest media-promoted victories against the Covenant was relatively early in the war, when the UNSC sent an entire fleet against an invading battlegroup. One hundred and seventeen ships engaged and destroyed twelve Covenant ships, but took thirty-seven casualties in the process."

"You lost nearly forty ships against a battlegroup of twelve?" Jane all but shouted. Being a ship Commander herself, such numbers were unthinkable. It was…well, a lot like the fight against Sovereign, actually, and he had had an entire Geth fleet to back him up. "Out of a hundred-seventeen?"

"A morale booster among the fleet," said the Chief.

Jane couldn't help herself. "Sorry Cortana, but what _ships_ did you use? How incredibly advanced was the Covenant?" She managed to keep herself from asking whether the Covenant wasn't really the Reapers under a different name. Such an assertion would insult everyone in the room.

Cortana almost sounded insulted when she replied. "Oh, believe me when I say that our fleet used to be _more_ than adequate enough to potentially turn both your First-Contact war and the batarian slave-raids into mere incidents, too humiliating for their species to even _mention_ on their history, _at the same time_. However, since our enemy had weapons that could melt through two meters of solid ship-grade armor a matter of a second and shrug off four sixty-four kilotons worth of cannon fire, our options were limited. If you add the notion that nearly every single Covenant vessel was the size of a turian dreadnaught, then having a lot of Frigates in the same size the turians build their Cruisers doesn't do a whole lot of good."

Dreadnaught-sized warships as a mainstay in the Covenant navy…forget the Council, why hadn't the _Reapers_ ever noticed the war raging there? Or had they? Was there a reason that the Covenant and the UNSC evolved around seemingly-different technological trees?

"As much as I like the idea of a race having the capacity to put the turians and the batarians in their place…I _really don't._ " She faced the Chief. John. Her friend. "You have my sympathies, Master Chief. I wish I could to more than simply promising something, but I _promise_ you that I will do everything in my power to get you home, to your people. And then, if your people still need to, I will get them in contact with the Citadel Council. They might be three of the most politic politicians to have ever politicked, but they _care_."

The Chief held her gaze for a few, long seconds, during which he certainly assessed the truth and weight of her statement, before closing his eyes and resting his head on his pillow. "That's not my call to make," he softly said. "The Collector and the Reapers are the main threat now. We should focus on them first."

Jane simply stared all the man. "I…"

"Oh, that's just his way to say he wants to change the subject," quipped Cortana. "Don't worry, he was curt to me too when we first got here. The last years were… _rough."_

Shepard wondered what sort of events could possibly turn _such_ a lopsided war around, then decided against asking.

But _thirty billion_ casualties…that had to be the majority of their race.

No, she decided _against_ asking.

Against

…damnit. "So how did your mankind survive that war? The Covenant didn't just quit, did they?"

Cortana did reply to her question, but she sounded very off. Static-ish, as if something was warping her voice. " **Of course they didn't-"** the AI stopped, catching herself. Her hologram flickered a few times as she brought her hand to her temple. "Sorry. There, that's better. Just a…faulty line in your omni-tool, is all."

Jane raised an eyebrow and glanced at the Chief, who was looking at Cortana with an expression that severely discredited the 'is all' part of the AI's explanation.

Some people -like Garrus- liked to credit the Commander's charisma and understanding as supernatural. She disliked that idea. She was just a really good observer and right now, observation told her to put this conversation into the mental box for the moment.

"Cortana interfaced with the Collecter's hardware," said the Master Chief. "She's still acclimatizing to a human environment."

That was an explanation. Judging by the way Cortana had disappeared right when he started talking, it was a big lie, but it was also an explanation. "Well, goes that explains the C," said Jane.

The Chief blinked. Even a man with perfect emotional control like him didn't seem to fully scrub the look of confusion away.

Jane smirked. That was too easy. "The C in UNSC. United Nations Space Command sounded very militaryish."

"Militaryish?"

There was probably a better word for that. "Normally, the government doesn't exist out of a military organization. That would be a military dictatorship. Technically, the UNSC is a military regime. Although I'm fairly certain it was far the best." She coughed, realizing that she was right back at the beginning. "Well then, I like the color of your visor. Brings out the green in your helmet."

The Chief remained silent. Man, was he ever difficult to hold a conversation with. Her new personal challenge.

In the meantime, Doctor Chakwas dropped by again, giving Jane another dose of medication to keep her biotic implants from warping the surrounding tissues.

A few minutes and one additional doze of medication for the Master Chief later, Chakwas left again, leaving Jane at the mercy of an AI with a hunger for knowledge.

"So, what was that about?" Asked Cortana, popping up from the omni-tool as she did. "Is taxing your Biotics really that dangerous?"

Jane gave a grunt in reply and waited until her Amp calmed down. Apparently, it decided that she wanted to Warp the entire medical bay and her nodes were flaring in response. Damn meds…she hated them. But throwing them out the airlock would leave her in a worse condition. Chakwas wouldn't forgive her that easily again. "Not really. Humans are too weak, asari too refined."

"But you are neither weak nor refined?"

Despite her physical discomfort, Jane found herself smiling. Such a clever girl…" Yup. I've got a Force output classified as "too powerful for my own good"." Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder coupled with an ingrained desire for violence were good for something, at least. "I can pick up krogan and make them dance, slap around entire fireteams for giggles and cut my food without touching the silverware."

"Impressive," said Cortana. " _He_ can't do that last one."

Jane saw the Chief's jaw muscles clench in response to that remark, just a bit.

"But if I have too much fun, my nodes start getting overexcited and my brain can't tell my Amp that I am _not_ trying to destroy a planet. As a result, my biotic Amp and my brain start throwing hissyfits that can lead to popped blood vessels-"

"Ouch."

"And then the fun starts. If I tried to, say, Biotically arm-wrestle a few Matriarchs in a row, my nodes will start warping their surrounding tissues to draw more power. It's _very_ annoying and _very_ unpleasant."

"So you can't push yourself past your limits because your body will literally tear itself apart?"

Jane smiled. "Yup. That's basically the gist of it."

"And nobody has been able to treat that?"

She shrugged. "There aren't a lot of humans who _need_ to get it fixed. Chakwas and Mordin are always looking into things, but they have much more important things to do. In the meantime, meds will keep my Biotics calm."

Cortana nodded. "I'm sorry to hear that."

Jane waved her concerns away. "Don't. I rarely overexert myself. At least, not normally. Anyway, order of business. Repairing your suit, repairing your organs, dealing with the rumors of magical sky-falling Master Chiefs that are sure to circulate. The normal stuff. We're heading towards the Citadel in a few days. New supplies, lots of shore leave. A friend of mine asked to check something out, too."

Upon hearing the mention of his suit, the Chief seemed to stir. "I doubt anything on the Citadel will help repair my armor, Commander."

Jane rolled with her eyes. "I know that. It'll help with other things however. I'm pretty sure Cortana wants to take a look at all the info she can find there and you have earned a few days off."

"Commander, I don't have need for shore leave."

Right, he was _that_ kind of genetically, biochemically and cybernetically altered super-soldier. "Well, then you get to carry Cortana around. She's _your_ partnered AI and I have to stress, you still didn't tell how you two fit into this picture. But that can wait. For a while. We have spare civilian clothes for you…"

The Chief was unable to hide his distaste.

"…or a military hardsuit. I think the latter will better fit your tastes. It's not green, battered and burned, but it can support an omni-tool."

He remained silent for a few moments, before saying, "I prefer to carry firearms into hostile territory, Commander."

Jane blankly stared at him. "Everybody does. Your point?"

"Will this be a problem?"

She shrugged. "Don't see why. If I can walk around with a Cain in the embassies, I'm sure you can walk around with a normal rifle. Now then. I'm going to try and sneak my way out of here. Still a lot to do. How am I going to give Cortana back to you?"

"She wired my omni-tool to my armor's systems."

"Oh. How'd she do that?"

"Her chip uses advanced fabrication software to interface with alien insertion points."

Jane and the Chief stared at each other for a few moments. "You don't know how she did that, do you?"

"Some girls prefer to keep secrets."

Oh, a witty comeback? So he was capable of dry humor? Hah. Now she had him. "So you plug her into your armor and she plugs herself into your omni-tool?"

"Via my helmet, yes."

Jane nodded, impressed. She then picked up the Chief's large helmet and set it down on the table next to him, before gently removing the blue chip from her omni-tool and slipping it into the back of the helmet. The power of an extremely-dangerous Artificial Intelligence, contained in an item no larger than her thumb. She existed within John's suit. Did she exist within his head as well? Could she interface with his mind? What else was this UNSC capable of building?

And how had the Covenant torn it all down? And why?

"There. A piece of the girl, into the piece of the boy. Normally it's the other way around. Those batarians never stood a chance." She realized that she was thinking aloud and quickly added, "Just…don't go venting any rooms in here and nobody will notice that you have a girl living inside of your head." Saying it like that sounded kind of weird…

Meh, she had uttered weirder sentences this day.

"Understood Commander."

"Oh and, please, just call me by my name. Preferably the first one. Everybody calling me Shepard gets a bit…dull…at times."

He stared at her with an odd expression, making Jane realize that she had just asked the shell-shocked veteran super-soldier to call a stand-in Commanding Officer by her first name.

"Or call me whatever makes you feel better. Right then. Good luck."

"Thank you."

With a faint smile, Jane left the medical bay, praying to the Tuchankian deities that Karin wouldn't notice her.

~0~

* * *

Garrus Vakarian was sitting in the mess hall opposite of the medical bay, together with Tali'Zorah and Jack of all people. All three of them were "keeping to themselves" and enjoying their meal, "unconcerned" and completely "undistracted".

However, the moment Commander Shepard exited the medical bay, looking very much like an asari infiltrator escaping from an enemy safehouse, Tali knew that it was safe to drop the pretense and start with the important talk.

Namely, how the flying Keelah a man had survived odds that would put a Reaper to shame.

Initially, Tali had been surprised that Jack had joined them as well. However, she quickly remembered that the woman had been at Shepard's side inside of the Collector Cruiser, fighting side-by-side with this Master Chief against the Collectors. She had been there when Shepard had been forced to leave the Chief behind, sentencing him to what everybody had believed to be a certain death. If anyone would be here, it would be her.

Tali was just confused about Jack's intentions. She had never displayed concern towards anything. What had she seen inside that vessel to be curious towards the Chief?

"The coast seems clear," said Garrus. "Come on out, Rupert."

The Mess Sergeant emerged from behind his kitchen table and wiped the sweat off his brow. "Whew. That was close. She almost found my secret stash."

"How can she find your stash from the other side of the deck?" Asked Tali.

"The Commander has the uncanny ability to appear when you don't want her," replied Gardner.

"Alright," said Tali. She was eager to change the subject. "Garrus, you weren't there, so I will make this brief. The Master Chief can _not_ fly."

The discussion immediately started, loaded against her. "Bullshit!" Jack immediately replied. "How the fuck do you explain him falling from orbit? That's right! You don't!"

Behind her helmet, Tali rolled with her eyes.

But Garrus, that traitor, wasn't even on her side! "I see Jack's point and raise you this. How do you explain him _surviving_ a fall from orbit? Everybody can crash, but not everybody can stick the landing."

"Thruster packs?" Suggested Tali.

"Which means he flew down from orbit in style," replied Garrus. "But it is still flying."

Damnit, she had pushed herself in a corner.

"I don't think he has a jetpack or something like it," said the voice of Kasumi Goto, shortly before Kasumi Goto actually appeared. She was sitting opposite of Tali, with both of her elbows on the table, holding something black and boxy. Nobody reacted. They had gotten used to her sneaking into their midst by now. "He would have flown out of the way of that Mako."

Garrus' mandibles trembled at that remark. "Mako?"

"Maybe it was damaged?" Said Tali. "And no, that does not count as the Chief 'breaking his wings', Kasumi."

"What Mako?"

"D'aww…but it sounds poetic, doesn't it?"

Jack scowled. "Maybe he didn't need to! Maybe he just didn't give a fuck if that thing hit him."

Garrus raised his hand like an innocent child. "The turian is lost. What Mako? What didn't you tell me?"

Kasumi giggled. "Poor Vakarian is being kept in the dark. The batarians rammed a Mako APC into the Master Chief."

Tali hadn't known that turians could open their mouth that far. "Impressed, Garrus?"

Vakarian seemed to shake himself awake. "No, not at all. I mean, if a Geth Prime can survive Shepard crashing the Mako into its chest, surely the Master Chief can."

"Recovered quickly, Vakarian," Said Kasumi. "Is that jealousy I detect?"

"Again, not at all. How did that human saying go again? A good player knows when to fold them."

"It's one of the reasons Miranda learned not to be jealous of Shepard," said the Mess Sergeant. "I mean, there are some levels that just can't be reached with training alone."

"So," said Kasumi, "all in favor of the Chief flying down from orbit and crashing?"

Garrus, Jack and Kasumi all raised their hand, while Tali wondered if she had perhaps gathered the wrong people to discuss this. "Keelah, I should have invited Miranda…"

"Next up," said Garrus. "Fending off a few hundred slavers on his own."

"Perhaps they were badly equipped?" Asked Tali. She didn't want to play down the Chief's abilities, not at all, but she wanted to take this seriously. She was very intrigued by the man and his miraculous armor and she wanted to know exactly what had happened on New Campton. Sensationalism wasn't the best way to reach 'exactly'.

"Nonsense," Gardner immediately said. "After our people searched the battlefield for salvageable remains of the Collector ship, we found plenty of corpses with good tech. Shields, advanced tech and enough Dead Man's for everybody."

"I'm sorry," said Tali. "My translator must have glitched. You found dead men with the bodies?"

"A Dead Man Sensor," replied Garrus. "It's a piece of tech you link up to your suit. When your hardsuit is advanced enough to actually carry a VI or a medical display, the Dead Man will monitor your vitals. When you die, it goes off, alerting all your buddies with an omni-tool. Real nasty piece of tech."

Kasumi nodded. "Expensive too. Whoever funded those batarians…oh, what am I saying. When the Hegemony funded those batarians, they funded them well."

At first, Tali doubted why anyone would pay for such a piece of morbid technology. However, when she thought about it more, it actually made sense. If anyone were to try and catch them surprise, the entire squad would immediately know that they were under attack. Stealth would be rendered useless.

And any batarian killed in retaliation could be bloodily avenged the second any renegade human tried to fight their way past the invasion.

"So back to the motion, the Chief faced down well-equipped soldiers," verified Garrus. "On his own, with broken wings."

Kasumi smirked.

Tali placed the palm of her hand against her visor, mimicking Jane's often performed gesture.

"How?"

Jack knew the answer, apparently. "You should have seen that hyperactive bastard aboard the Collector ship! He took down those big fuckers with no trouble. Shit, what are they called again? Big zombie-things?"

"Scions?" Tali said with shock. She had seen the footage of the frightening, lumbering monsters. "The Master Chief took down Scions on his own? _How?"_

"By beating the shit out of them!" Jack was uncharacteristically excited. Was she so elated that she had found someone equally destructive as she was, or had the Commander and her delving into the dark past really helped that much? "Big guy fucked them up with his bare hands and a big gun."

"Impossible," Tali immediately said. She had read the report of Shepard trying her infamous Biotic takedown and the resulting chaos had led to the partial destruction of two houses, a Husk and the Commander's barriers. "Those things have a Shockwave ability that fries your shields and destroys your barriers. How did he-?"

"If you time it right," replied Kasumi, "you can hit the Scion and retreat before it retaliates. You need to be sharp though."

If that was true, the Master Chief had to be really sharp. It puzzled Tali somewhat; the man looked so human to her, but his armor was something she had never seen before. It was something that the Geth might have come up with if they ever felt the need to fight krogans in close-quarters, but even then…the armor was just too advanced to be built by any organic species. It had its own fusion reactor! Not even the salarians could have come up with something like that!

"Still," said the Mess Sergeant, "You gotta be crazy to willingly stay behind on an op like that, _and_ take on an entire batarian slave raid on your own. Those bastards have very nasty weapons at their side. The Chief's gonna fit right in."

Tali wasn't sure that the Chief was crazy. He didn't look like the type to enjoy fighting, like Grunt and Jack did. He just…seemed to do his thing. And the thought of him standing alone in the human colony, exposing himself to all forms of grueling harm and pain just to defend what little people might have been left? That didn't sound like the decision of a mad man to her. The wounds he had received during that fight…

However much she wanted to, she couldn't keep her thoughts away from the Master Chief. Was he going to be alright? What would he need to get ready for fighting again?

Her? To fix his armor?

"In all seriousness though, Shepard's really happy that she found him again. Losing him was really tough on her."

Jack looked away when she heard that.

"Yes, you and Tali worked with Shepard before, didn't you?" Asked Kasumi.

Garrus chuckled. "Worked with…fought alongside…assisted in killing a two-kilometer tall Reaper…we've been places."

That they had. Tali remembered the first time she had seen Commander Jane Shepard in action. She had been desperate, in pain and frightened for her life. Spurned by humans, chased away by non-human. Saren's assassins had been hiding at every single corner in the citadel and finally, when she had managed to strike a deal and sell valuable information for a mere place to stay, she had been betrayed one final time.

Or what _would_ have been her final time.

And then Jane had appeared. A flash of brilliant blue light, followed by crumbling walls and cracking stone. She had conjured up a wall of blue fire held together by will and rage, practically _daring_ the assassins to come get her. Nothing had stopped her. Everything that had stood in her way died. It had been over in mere seconds.

And then, Jane had extended her hand towards Tali. A quarian.

" _You're safe now. Nobody is going to hurt you anymore."_

Kasumi folded her hands behind her neck. "She's not what I expected of an Alliance Commander. I mean, not like I would _know_ how Commanders act like, but…"

"Shepard's different," Garrus immediately replied. "She's not so much military as…well, Shepard."

"Shepard is Shepard," agreed Tali. "A good way of putting it. The Commander doesn't let anything compromise her, no matter what."

"She's soft, that's what she is," snapped Jack. "The big guy had to convince her to leave him. Back on Pragia, there was this insane fuck who wanted to restart the facility. And Shepard took pity on him! How the fuck was I supposed to kill him when she´s looking at me like…fuck, like…"

"A baby varren," joked Garrus.

"Yes! Shit, that's it! A baby varren!"

Tali shook her head. She had heard Jane being compared to lots of things, but a baby varren…" She's not soft."

Jack shot a glare at her. "What?"

She didn't like being stared at like that, but this was a point she had to bring up. "Shepard's not soft. She's kind, but not soft. There is a line, very specifically, that shouldn't be crossed with her. Once people do cross it…" Tali shook her head. "That's it."

Garrus chuckled. "Poor Eclipse girl never saw it coming…"

Kasumi leant back on her chair. "The batarian was _really_ pushing her buttons."

"Generally, showing a lack of remorse is a bad thing to do."

Tali was glad that they knew exactly what she meant. "The Commander grieved for _Saren_ when she convinced him to kill himself-"

Jack paled. "She did _what?"_

"-but she also executed three people she deemed too dangerous to live, with a bullet to the face, one after another. She has this weird sense of justice. If someone is too dangerous to function in society, when someone will only return to hurting innocent people, she won't hesitate a second."

"The fucking lunatic wanted to restart a Cerberus facility!" Shouted Jack. "How did _he_ escape getting a face-full?"

"What can I say? The Commander has a soft spot for dark and troubled pasts," replied Garrus. "As I said, few people ever cross the line that she won't ever forgive. Once they do, Shepard splatters them across the wall. Or whatever happens to be directly around their bodies."

Tali had only witnessed the darker sides of her Commander a few times. The worst had been on Asteroid X57. The two batarians in charge of the crazy scheme to crash the asteroid into the planet below…Tali still remembered their names. Sometimes, she even remembered how they had screamed. The second-in-command, Charn had gone out relatively easy. Jane had Biotically ripped his head off.

Balak…for plotting to kill four million innocent people purely out of spite, his punishment had been unusually cruel. Jane had crushed his body with a disgustingly-powerful Singularity, casually, almost contemptuously, twisting his limbs, breaking his bones, crushing his organs and mangling his corpse with the Biotic gravitational power.

All the hostages had been saved, but the sudden ferocity and bloodthirstiness that her Commander had displayed…Tali hadn't talked to her for two days after that.

And then she had learned about Mindoir. And Elysium.

"I can't say I disapprove," said Kasumi. "There are some nasty people in this galaxy. Having someone like Shepard around can only make it better, right?"

Tali squirmed, feeling rather uncomfortable all of a sudden. "I…at least, the quarians have an entire justice system where multiple individuals are in charge of sentencing the guilty. We believe that a single person cannot be trusted as a carrier of justice."

"Judge, jury and executioner," said Kasumi. "Well, if you put it like that…"

But Garrus was not worried. "As I said, nothing compromises Shepard. If she figures someone deserved punishment, they _really_ had it coming."

"But if you put it like _that_ …"

"Yes," the Mess Sergeant then said, "But you're Archangel. Of course you would approve of that."

Tali's point exactly. If someone had the power and vision to decide who got to live and who got to die, wouldn't that power eventually go to their head? She believed in Jane and knew that the Commander would only ever think about those who couldn't defend themselves, but only a fool would deny that she had a darker side to her. Elysium went into history as Jane's career-defining moment, but there was a lot more to it than just that.

Nobody would deny that Jane was merciful and compassionate beyond what was normal. But the Alliance had covered up what really happened on Elysium for a reason.

~0~

* * *

The Master Chief struggled against the sedatives and exhaustion, fighting to stay awake. He was vaguely aware of his injuries, but the pain was becoming more noticeable with every breath he took. The sedatives the Doctor had given him were slowly wearing off. That was good, because he needed to think clear. It was bad, because the sedatives were keeping the many collective injuries of his body at bay.

Cortana was sitting now, watching him with anxiety and worry. Almost glaring at him. Every now and then he would look at her, meet her eyes. She immediately looked away whenever he did.

The silence, normally so soothing to him, was now bothering him. In the thirty minutes since Shepard had left them, Cortana had been monitoring his vital signs, but she had also grown more morose and silent with each passing minute. Eventually, he had to address it. "You told me you didn't know what was going on."

He tried not to sound accusing, and he thought that he had kept his voice completely neutral, but Cortana still recoiled as if struck.

"I didn't want to upset you…" she whispered. "I'm sorry."

John frowned. Cortana had been through a lot lately. Pressuring her was the last thing he wanted to do. Understanding the situation could wait -he had worked with less intel than this in the past- but she knew. She knew while telling him that she didn't. He simply wanted to know why.

"You don't upset me," he quietly replied. "I just want to know why you kept it secret. What was your reason?"

Cortana glanced up at him, like a child that had been told off by its parents. "You don't know what they did to you?"

She was still speaking in that hushed, remorseful tone. "I'm used to being injured, Cortana," he told her, trying to soothe her with a slight smile. His jaw-muscles felt stiff, inflexible. "It's part of the job."

But she shook her head, as if his attempt to calm her down only served to upset her more. "You don't know…you haven't noticed it yet?"

Now the Master Chief was starting to feel uneasy as well. The years of conditioning immediately kicked in and told him to arm himself, that something was very wrong. "You're not talking about the batarians. What's wrong? Tell me."

"John…"

 _She's using my name again,_ he realized.

"…a lot happened since we came back to Earth, after what happened at Halo. You haven't been conscious throughout it all…not all of it."

The Master Chief frowned. He didn't remember any moment like that. There were moments where had had managed to grab a few hours of sleep, but he had not been knocked into unconsciousness. He was very certain about that.

There was something else that bothered him about that statement, too. Cortana had been stuck in High Charity. "How do you know that?"

She looked so guilty. "What you deem as a small window of opportunity, a single moment in time that you have to take before it is eternally lost again… can last an eternity to an AI. When you saved me on High Charity, for instance. When you interacted with the Monitor, with the Arbiter. Back on the Dawn, here in this very medical bay. All these small moments may seem separate to you, and perhaps they are. But you're not _me_. And to me, they form a pattern."

The Chief shook his head. "I'm not following you," he said. "What do these moments have in common?"

She looked him in his eyes. "What happened on New Campton?"

The sudden change of subject puzzled him, but it was obvious that Cortana needed him to follow her logic and that was all the incentive he needed to attempt to do so. "After the slavers took you, I searched across the colony to find you. I eliminated patrols, hostile infantry squads and their animal support." He stopped, hesitating. What had happened after that again? "I discovered what the batarians did to their prisoners and eventually rescued a survivor." He paused again. "She didn't make it. You know that. You were there when Shepard verified it."

"And then?" Cortana urged him on. "What happened then?"

He remembered watching her small, broken body. Her eyes, vacant, staring at nothing. The anger he had felt, quickly escalating out of his control. Everything after that point was a haze filled with blood and screaming and bitter hatred, not cold and latent like he had felt with the Covenant, but much worse.

"I avenged her," said the Chief. "And I made them pay."

"And what _do_ you remember?"

"I-" The Spartan cut himself off and glanced at Cortana, frowning. How did she know about that particular gap in his memory? "I saw Commander Shepard, sitting atop the turret of an APC." He didn't tell Cortana what his adrenaline-fueled mind had made out of her sudden Biotic entrance. "How did you-?"

"There are holes in your memory, events that transpired that didn't take in your mind. After Doctor Chakwas and Professor Solus -the salarian- performed surgery on you, scanning the entirety of your body for injuries, I realized what must have happened. What _they_ did to you."

"Cortana, slow down. I'm not following you. Who is 'they'? What did they do?"

The AI gave him a look of pity, and it frustrated John, but he couldn't understand why. "I'm trying to make sense of it. It's all still so scrambled…but the MRIs revealed an abnormality in your brain."

Hearing that disturbed the Spartan. Abnormalities were always bad news. "A tumor?" He asked. "Augmentation rejection?"

Cortana gave him a look that told him that his suggestions horrified her. "No, nothing like that! At least, I don't _think_ so."

John raised an eyebrow at that. "You don't _think?_ I thought we passed the phase of experimenting on the Spartan-"

"Don't say that!" Snapped the AI, displaying a sudden fierceness that surprised the Master Chief. "Don't joke about that! I reviewed your combat records, the reports filed since you and I were separated. You went through a full medical review and then supplied with medication to induce twelve hours of sleep. You awoke after seven."

The Chief recalled that, too. Back on the Cairo, where they had stripped his old Mk. V.

"I thought it was just to give you rest, to let you recover from your successful operation," continued Cortana. "But they did something to you. There was an Office of Naval Intelligence Prowler docked with the Cairo at the time of your recuperation. I…I didn't think anything about it at the time, but…"

"After New Campton, you realized something was wrong?" He didn't know how he should feel about this news. Yes, he was property of ONI, but that didn't mean they could just mess with his head in his sleep. There were only a select few people in the UNSC that could properly interact with a Spartan and one of them was Doctor Halsey.

Cortana nodded. "I hypothesized several potential outcomes due to the Office's meddling. Several of them were sabotage, perhaps Ackerson, but you succeeded, despite all your injuries, without showing any signs of faring worse than before."

"So it's not sabotage?" The Chief was relieved to hear that. Colonel Ackerson had never hidden his disdain for the Spartans.

"I haven't completely ruled it out, but, no. That doesn't mean you're in the clear. One other outcome was a mere tissue sampling and scanning procedure to gather information, but your performance was different from what you usually show."

If he had outright forgotten a section of his fight on New Campton, there definitely was something wrong. There was one problem though. "I have a concussion. Doesn't that account for the memory loss?"

But Cortana shook her head. "Not to such an accurate degree, not at such a vital point. Your memory loss started at a very specific occurrence."

The Master Chief looked away. "I lost control," he quietly said, disgusted with the mere _notion_ of not being able to fully maintain a professional attitude in combat. "When I saw I failed to protect her…something went wrong."

"John…" Cortana reached out for him, but stopped half-way through the gesture. "It's not your fault. You did everything you could, _better_ than everything you could."

He looked back at the AI, wondering if that was true. A Spartan never failed, never lost. `Is that why you didn't tell me what really happened to the _Dawn_?"

"Yes…I must admit, you have handled extraordinary amounts of stress. But shooting your way out of High Charity nearly exceeded that incredible tolerance of yours. You came close to cracking, and I didn't know what triggered the…whatever it was that ONI did to you on the Cairo. And close subjection to the Gravemind's telepathy didn't "

The Chief nodded, understanding. He didn't like Cortana withholding vital information on him, but he could understand. "And revealing a second evolved mankind on the other side of the galaxy, combined with their own ancient alien threat, would push that stress-level over your established threshold?"

"Exactly!" Cortana exclaimed, seemingly reassured that he understood. "Given the vast and intricate background with the Protheans, Reapers and Citadel races, coupled with the time-discrepancy, I thought you needed time to process all of this." She halted, glancing up at the Spartan. "Do you need time to process all of this?"

John sighed, taking a moment to categorize and process this information. Even to someone with the mental capacities of a Spartan, it took a minute. It might have also been the concussion however. "You don't know what, if anything, the Office did to my head?"

"Negative." Explaining the finer details put Cortana right back towards her chattier behavior. In the past, it had annoyed the Master Chief somewhat. Now, he was utterly relieved to hear it. "However, if we take into account your experience at New Campton and the grisly casualties you caused, it is safe to assume it has to do with your stress levels, aggression levels and frontal lobe."

The frontal lobe…if he remembered his biology correct, that was where emotional regulation lay. Alterations to the frontal lobe could have some unprecedented results.

Again, it might also be the concussion.

He disliked the heavy ones. They made logical, reasonable thinking difficult. "Great. Let's hope we don't find any more surprises. We don't want to break my brain."

"That's not-"

"I know," said the Chief. "My apologies. We should turn to the most pressing issue at the moment."

At that, Cortana sighed with relief. "At last. Let´s shelf this brain-talk for now and get to the priorities."

The two of them spoke at the exact same time.

"The history of the Protheans, Forerunners and the Reapers."

"Repairing my suit."

Then, the two of them stared at each other, neither of them surprised at the priorities of the other.

Cortana sighed again, but this time with a little bit less relief and a little bit more exasperation. "Your MJOLNIR, Chief, is badly damaged. Do you remember the Gunnery Sergeant's chastising back at the Cairo? Apply that here, then multiply it. You busted your shield generator, multiple compartments have been breached and the protective visor is shattered. Shattered, Chief. Do you know how much force is needed to do that?"

"Recall my reply to the Gunnery Sergeant, switch 'Covenant' for 'Batarians' and apply it here."

Cortana rolled with her eyes. "Yes, I suppose showering the planet with a kinetic bombardment would damage the Mk. VI like that…still, it isn't beyond repair."

The Chief felt his mood increase significantly.

"The nanomachine pocket will be able to fully repair your suit within a week."

And just like that, his good mood was gone. "A week?" Repeated the Spartan. "Can't you tell them to hurry up?"

The AI raised a skeptical eyebrow at that comment. "Well, I _could_ have them multiply significantly and rush the repairs, but I believed you to be hesitant to the idea of a nanite well living inside your suit?"

She had a point. The idea of a Cortana-controlled swarm of intelligent machines the size of a molecule didn't seem very enticing. There was no saying what she could do with such a swarm, but the threat…

Cortana's eyes seemed to glimmer with an innocent playfulness and the Chief immediately recognized that look. She had an idea.

"No," he flatly told her. "You are not creating a nano-machine swarm. We can't risk the crew finding out."

"Don't worry, we'll just be repairing your suit. Maybe upgrade it, but mostly repair it."

Still, the Master Chief had to insist. "We can't have them figure out that the MJOLNIR contains a pocket of nanomachines. If my armor magically repairs itself within the day, they _will_ get suspicious."

"Do you want me to point out the error in your logic?"

"Cortana, no."

She pouted like a little child. "Oh, fine. Guess you will have to walk around in a normal civilian outfit then. I believe that mister Taylor might be able to supply you with one?"

The Chief sighed. Sometimes, doing the right thing was so hard. "A normal hardsuit will have to suffice," he told the AI. "For now."

"Good, because we'll be approaching the Citadel by the time you've recovered enough to walk."

Now there was something he hadn't expected her to say. "I distinctly recall multiple people getting mad when patients walked too soon," he commented. "You want to go to the Citadel that badly?"

Her smile confirmed that suspicion. "Oh, very much so! I mean, we're not likely to run into any trouble down there, and you will still be wearing a hardsuit with kinetic barriers and a medigel-dispenser. We'll be at Jane's side the entire time."

The Chief stared at Cortana, expecting her to-

"Please?"

\- there it was. "Sure. I don't see why." One thing in Cortana's little explanation stood out to him though. "So the Commander rescued you from the batarian ship?"

"Yes, she did. Not that I _needed_ her to rescue me though. I had it under control."

Haughtiness from an Artificial Intelligence. "Strange. I recall you saying they locked you in a primitive system."

"And I recall venting their ship."

Touché, "One rescue and you and the Commander are on a first-name basis?"

If he hadn't known better, he would have thought that Cortana _blushed_ at that remark. "Yes, well, I needed her to bail you out!"

She was getting defensive very quickly. It puzzled him. "You _did_ ride along on her omni-tool…and she _did_ promise to keep your existence a secret. Do you trust her?"

Cortana crossed her arms. "I suppose I do. She's not lying, and I would know if she was. Regardless, now there is only one manner left to address." The two of them faced sized each other up for a few moments, before both of them delivered their respective agenda point.

"The _Normandy_ crew having knowledge of your augmentations."

"Weapons deployment."

Cortana smirked. "Hah. I win. Now, ONI would probably have you kill everyone aboard the _Normandy_ to preserve the secret."

The Master Chief blinked. "That's…not going to happen."

"I know. I just wanted to give you a proper heads-up. I'm sure you've been through this in your head already. At the earliest convenience, I'll wipe their medical data regarding your augmentations."

The Chief nodded, satisfied that one loose end would be tied up. He didn't want to imagine augmented krogan. Although, he wondered what sort of Spartan the Commander would have made.

He discarded that thought immediately. The memories of the augmentation procedure were far from pleasant. The feeling of napalm pouring through his veins, his bones shattering a thousand times over…it wasn't something he wanted Shepard, or anyone for that matter, to experience.

Exhaustion washed over him as he shifted his weight. Cortana didn't miss a beat when she said, "You should rest. I've got some interesting things to keep me busy for a while."

"Are you sure?" The Chief asked, his voice as soft as a whisper. It appeared that the sedatives hadn't worn out yet.

Or it was just the…

"Very. Let the Commander take it over from here."

The Master Chief agreed with that notion. Before soon, he had drifted off into a deep sleep.

~0~

* * *

 **Armory**

Jane was processing all sorts of different thoughts while wandering towards the _Normandy's_ armory, working with insinuations so unpleasant that a newscaster might have made them. She had to be honest with herself; she needed answers, and trying to evade Doctor Chakwas wasn't the best way to get them.

So with the rather unpleasant position of bothering the battered, wounded, still drugged-up Master Chief and his AI partner or mister Taylor, the decision was easily made. After all, she was _technically_ going to ask Jacob questions that lay within his line of duty to answer.

She just hoped that he was still asleep at this hour.

The Commander slipped inside of the armory and saw the hard-working man standing near one of the tables, working with an odd-looking weapon that truly deserved the moniker 'alien'.

When Jane was standing right behind Jacob, she silently inhaled through her nose and muttered, "Heeey."

As predicted, mister Taylor whirled around and reached for his sidearm, recognized his CO and became flustered with the fact that he had tried to pull a gun on her. She smirked as he hastily snapped off a salute. "Commander. Didn't ehm…didn't expect to see you here this late." He paused, sizing her up the way only a professional could. "Commander…why are you wearing a hospital gown? Are you barefooted? Again?"

Jane shrugged. "I like the feel of the floor. As for your first question, I hung around my quarters for a while. You can lock the door there."

"Ehm…sure. So what can I do for you, Shepard?"

Satisfied with Jacob's quick recovery, Jane strolled over towards one of the weapon lockers. "I was wondering…that Sniper Rifle. It's an anti-material, right?"

"Yes Commander. The rounds are made out of a very hard material, likely depleted alloys or something similar. EDI helped me calculate the power behind it. Said it could punch through fifteen feet of flesh and bone with one shot. Impressive."

"That paints a disturbing picture. It's not anti-material, by the way."

At that, Jacob frowned. "It's not?"

"Nope. Well, technically it is. The Chief uses it for anti-personnel purposes."

Jacob wasn't even surprised to hear that. "Yeah, Miranda sent me the report. Seems wasteful to me. It's kind of like you using your Barrier to disintegrate flies."

"Damn things shouldn't be pestering me. So what sort of shields would stop the bullet?"

Jacob plucked one of the magazines out of a box and set it down on the table. "Hard to say. It could punch through a YMIR's shields. It would definitely bust any military kinetic barrier I know of…might even blow through your Barrier, or at least exhaust you trying to stop it. Funny thing though; it's not even that heavy. Way lighter than a Widow, for example."

"And in its infantry role? Can it be modified?"

"Yes Commander. I found several attachments that seemed to go with this weapon. It's capable of supporting a suppressor, different sights with night vision mode. Big shame about the ammo capacity; it only fires four shots before you need to reload it." Jacob suppressed a yawn and mumbled an apology. It was getting late. "Carries an expanded magazine though…but we don't have many of those."

At least there was no worrying about making your shot count…you could shoot a krogan in his big toe with this thing and still blow off his foot. Which begged the question…what did the Master Chief shoot at with a rifle seemingly designed to kill medium armor?

Jacob looked her over. "With respect Commander, do you need me to get Doctor Chakwas? I mean, you look like you should still be in medical."

Jane gave Jacob a charming smile. "I think that would be a dangerous idea, what with all the guns around here…"

Mister Taylor frowned. "I didn't really think Doctor Chakwas the type to touch things she has no understanding of. She's been working with the Alliance for years, why would she…" he trailed off as he looked at the Commander, comprehension dawning on his features. "Oh. Ah. Right. Understood, Shepard."

Jane's smile widened and she reached for the magazine that went with the Sniper, pondering the necessity for anti-material weapons pressed into anti-personnel rounds. Some asari soldiers preferred the Widow anti-material sniper, but it was only capable of firing once before it overheated. It also weighed enough that those asari needed implants to brace the weapon. This one looked like Mordin could fire it.

Jacob seemed to sense her racing, somewhat chaotic thoughts. "Any particular reason you're interested in a Sniper Rifle while you should be sleeping, Commander?" Jacob kindly asked her, insinuating that she wasn't entirely thinking straight.

Not entirely wrong, either. Damn meds…"Dreadnaughts, mister Taylor. They're large. At least a kilometer in size."

Jacob blinked. "Uhm…yes Commander. They are. Your point?"

Jane put down the magazine and silently wished that her nodes would just stabilize themselves. Damn headaches. Always popping up unannounced. "And turian Cruisers are half their size. Five-hundred meters. Their Frigates are small, only a hundred-and-fifty meters."

"Should I…should I call Chakwas, Commander?"

Yes, she supposed she wasn't making sense. She had made a promise that she would keep this stuff a secret, for now. "Look at the Chief's weapons. They're tough, but reliable. Overpowered, but simple. Even his pistol fires high-explosive armor-piercing rounds. What on Earth were they fighting?"

Now that they were getting back to his favorite subject, Jacob seemed to relax somewhat. He still didn't take his dark eyes off of Jane for a second though. "That ehm…that depends. They can put down a lot of rounds. That Sniper? Semi-automatic. A quick shooter can empty the mag in a second, maybe two with the recoil. Maybe they encountered the krogan during the Rebellions?"

The Covenant must have employed really tough soldiers to warrant the training of people like John. That, or they were incredibly advanced. "Not the krogan…something else. If you compare the total amount of rifles with other warships, Cruiser-sized. Does it match up?"

Jacob fell silent as he checked the numbers and ran the calculations.. "Roughly. We need to take into account that we only scoured half the ship. The other half is gone, remember? The derelict might have contained even more gear."

Very interesting…she had initially thought the Master Chief to belong to some new, scarcely-developed species, with weapons and armor made specifically for a single conflict with other members of their kind. One colony, two at best, and a massive civil war.

Now she knew better. She had been picturing the wrong scale, the wrong war. It was nothing like the fueling krogan Clans and much more like how a full-blown war between the Council species and the Terminus Systems would look like. This wasn't the armory of some young species that had accidentally overdesigned, this was the result of a massive but crumbling war machine.

"Guess time will tell. Goodnight, Jacob. Thanks for the talk."

Jacob scratched the back of his head, confused. "You're welcome, Commander. With respect, where are you going now?"

Jane shrugged. "Private quarters, I guess. Gonna grab some sleep. Why?"

"You really pushed yourself, down in New Campton. Are you sure you should be up and about?"

"A good suggestion. I'll ask EDI to keep me company. Nightie night, Jacob."

Mister Taylor didn't further pursue the subject, which was for the better. Jane really didn´t want to have her crew look at her like something they needed to protect, like someone who needed help. She had been helpless once, and that would never happen again.

As she made her way towards her private quarters, she checked her omni-tool to see if the Consort had sent her any new messages. The first one had come as a bit of a surprise, declaring that she didn't feel quite safe anymore on the Citadel, and that she wanted to talk.

Nope. Still only the second one, describing how Sha'ira felt like she was being watched at times. Sketchy business. Few people could get away with making the Consort feel threatened. With the entire _Normandy_ crew taking a break at the Citadel, there would be plenty of time to investigate those problems.

Jane suppressed a yawn and glanced at her bed. So warm, so comfy…

Time to do what her body had been telling her to do for the past hour. Figuring out what massive civilization could scorch a hundred and fifty worlds in two decades would have to wait a few hours. Well, she had to be honest with herself. More than a few hours.

~0~

* * *

 **Medical Bay**

 **15 hours later**

It took the Master Chief a long time to fully recover from his injuries. He had many hours to spend in the medical bay and at times, he didn't know what to do with them. Sure, reading up on the various alien species he was going to face in the future took up some time, but he had already encountered most of them.

And there were only so many hours he could spent on cooking up ways to kill a krogan.

Eventually, he shifted his focus from the art of killing to history. Cortana was suffering from the same massive problem of boredom as he was, but it was much worse for her. She literally did everything she could to keep herself amused, and more often than not the Chief was forced to listen to her many theories on how this universe made sense. She talked about the Forerunners, about Shepard, about the name _Normandy_ and its cultural significance, about Shepard and even about a thing called Sovereign.

She guessed that the Forerunners must have committed themselves to a massive restoration project, but she had no idea how the Protheans and the Reapers fitted into the picture. After all, the war between the Forerunners and the Flood had spanned the entire galaxy. How had the Reapers survived that conflict, if not by hiding in dark space for several cycles?

The Master Chief didn't know. Eventually, as Cortana went to work with dark energy and the Mass Effect technology, he prioritized learning up on the Alliance´s history. Everything from its foundation to the First Contact war. Then, he delved deeper, enlightening himself on the past wars. The turian Unification War, the Krogan Rebellions, the Rachni wars. This galaxy was no newcomer to war but, much to his confusion, there was not a single scrap of info detailing the Human-Covenant war.

The Covenant Empire had spanned hundreds of worlds, with thousands of warships at their disposal. Yet, in the thousand years of Citadel history, the destruction of an entire planet remained a rare occurrence. An asteroid deliberately crashed into a garden world, or WMD's detonated in major population centers. Nothing that indicated the Covenant had been warring in this part of the galaxy as well.

Space was big, as Cortana put it. Very big. The Human-Covenant arm had taken place primarily in the Orion arm, or the Forerunner Cluster, since the Alliance technically hailed from _their_ version of the Orion arm as well. It was confusing, and coincidences only ran so far.

As the hours slowly trickled by, the Spartan started taxing his muscles and testing his limbs. His injuries were grave, but they were slowly starting to heal already. Most of the superficial bruises and scrapes had already healed, and the internal bleeding had mostly been stopped. The advanced medical technology accelerated his already-impressive healing to impressive levels.

At one point, Shepard dropped by and supplied Cortana with the drones she needed to strip the rest of the MJOLNIR armor.

"There," said the Commander. "I don't know if we can find a way to fix it on the Citadel, but we've got to try, right? I'll have Grunt and Garrus deliver it to the cargo bay. We can set up a dummy, or neatly pile it in a chest."

The idea of a securely-locked container was more attractive to the Chief, and he agreed with the latter option.

Jane flashed him a smirk that wouldn't be out of place with a little girl. "Good. After Cortana finishes stripping you and if you're feeling well enough to walk around, you can test one of our hardsuits. It doesn't come in green, unfortunately. We _do_ have a tasteful combo between hot-pink and bright white, if that suits your tastes?"

The Chief glared at the Commander, who suddenly didn't seem to find the idea that entertaining anymore.

"Ah yes," said Cortana, popping up from the MJOLNIR's omni-tool. "Pink, an impractical shade on the red spectrum, allegedly a tasteful option. We have dismissed that claim."

"Please don't!" the Commander begged with a hurt expression. "Anything but the air quotes!"

As Cortana dismissed Shepard's Spectre-hood traumas with air quotes, the Master Chief said, "It made sense when they didn't believe you the first time. The second time was a strategic blunder."

Shepard had to recover from a fake heart attack before replying. "What can I say? Maybe I'll present the Council with a second humanity. I'll watch them dismiss _you_ and _laugh_."

"So I take it we're approaching the Citadel then?" Said Cortana.

The Commander glanced at the AI with a hint of suspicion. "Yeeees…" she carefully said. "And how did _you_ find out, young lady?"

Cortana proudly crossed her arms over her chest. "Oh please. I may be stuck between the Master Chief's neural interface and an omni-tool, but Joker's flight reports aren't exactly secure."

"She does that when she gets bored," said the Chief.

Cortana performed a cliché evil laugh. "Haha, no system is safe!"

Jane merely smiled, as if she found the AI's behavior endearing instead of inconvenient. "You two are in a much better mood today. Good. Listen, you have to know that the Council takes illegal AI cases _very_ seriously. You really don't want to reveal that you're sentient."

Cortana snapped off a mock salute. "And we'd _hate_ to anger the Council, wouldn't we?" She said in that same mischievous tone she used as when she was poking around sensitive Covenant intel.

"Now, I'm not saying that. Anyway, you two should get dressed. Once on the Citadel, you've got a few hours to address your needs. I'll be in the CIC if you need anything."

While Commander Shepard left again, Cortana and the Chief glanced at each other.,

"You're going to be wearing a helmet the entire time, won't you?"

The Master Chief sighed. "Potentially hostile territory- "

"The hardsuit has kinetic barriers that protect your entire body."

"Enemy combatants recognizing and assessing- "

"You're a Spartan without MJOLNIR. Nobody knows your face."

"Chemical attacks."

Cortana's figure shimmered with a green tint as she crossed her arms. "Really? On the Citadel?"

"The Prothean superstation where the most important politicians in the galaxy gather to discuss the fate of billions?"

"…so what kind of helmet were you thinking about?"

The next few minutes, Cortana carefully directed the various engineering drones to properly remove the MJOLNIR. To normal and experienced engineers, the process was a tedious and difficult one. However, as Cortana was capable of throwing Alliance-tonnage Frigates around like Fighters, those issues were basically nonexistent.

Before soon, she had fully stripped the Master Chief of his suit and neatly piled the various compartments next to the bed.

The Spartan flexed his muscles. The MJOLNIR was like a second skin to him. Going on an operation without it made him feel uncomfortable. Naked.

Still, he knew not to depend on equipment to survive. Every piece of equipment was expendable, and every piece of equipment could break. He had long thought that humans didn't break either. Not in that way, at least.

The next order of business was to try on one of those hardsuits that the Commander was talking about. The Codex about those sets of armor didn't lie; they were more advanced than the standard Marine armor was now. Kinetic padding and sheets of ablative ceramics were featured within the more advanced models of Marine BDU as well, but as the Human-Covenant War started reaching the inner colonies and major production centers, the many total losses had become increasingly difficult to replace.

And when Reach fell…the standard BDU became a model decades old. Obsolete in every way to the what the UNSC had once produced and definitely inferior to what professional soldiers in this section of the galaxy wore.

The Master Chief still frowned at the kinetic barriers though. He had outwitted those systems in past conflicts by simply employing attacks that didn't trigger the barriers, such as melee strikes and booby-traps. Would they be enough to protect him from biotics?

"We've got a message from the Commander, by the way. Says we need to meet Zaeed Massani, the man in charge of maintaining the crew's personal armors."

The Chief nodded. He had underestimated Shepard; this ship might run on a ragtag group of combatants, but it was still being run military. It seemed that every member of the crew had their own task.

There was only one problem. He was wearing a medical gown. Walking around the ship like that was not an attractive prospect.

Cortana smirked when he relayed his situation to her. "That's what you worry about? Everybody aboard the ship knows you pretty much defied odds they didn't even know were _possible_ to defy, so nobody's going to be asking questions. Besides; Zaeed Massani is a professional mercenary. He knows better than to ask questions."

The Chief rolled with his eyes. He then removed the omni-tool from his wrist and retrieved Cortana's chip from his helmet.

And then he left the med-bay, hoping that he wouldn't be finding anyone else in the meantime. It wasn't often that he wandered around the interior of a ship without his MJOLNIR. The last time had been during the augmentation process.

He did not recall that memory fondly.

The elevator was slow, too. Much to slow for his preferences. It took half a minute for the elevator to reach the Engineering level and when it did, the doors soundlessly slid open, allowing him access to the deck.

Cortana had briefed him on the residents of this deck. At least, those he hadn't met already.

The krogan Grunt, one of the few aliens that would pose a threat to him in close quarters without his MJOLNIR. Shepard seemed to regard him with more responsibility than she should feel for her subordinates.

The convict Jack, the only human on the _Normandy_ that could rival Shepard in Biotic prowess. A dangerous, unhinged, violent woman that had no business on any military vessel. Yet she seemed to be equally as loyal, if not more so than, professionals like Jacob Taylor and Miranda Lawson.

The engineer Tali'Zorah, the quarian woman who had helped remove the components of his MJOLNIR. Cortana seemed to like her as well, even though Tali was supsedly extremely hostile towards all artificial lifeforms. Seeing her history of the Geth, this was at least somewhat justified.

And then there was Zaeed Massani, the mercenary Shepard had put in charge of most personal armors. Apparently, they had turned the starboard cargo hold into a makeshift armor locker. The mercenary veteran was tough, hard and unfettered, but the Chief didn't trust him.

Which was problematic, because he would be dependent on the mercenary to equip him. Still, he was confident that he could take Massani on in close quarters combat.

The Master Chief opened the door to the starboard cargo hold and stepped inside.

~0~

* * *

The first thing that Zaeed Massani noticed about the bastard entering the cargo hold was that he was _big_. Very big. Towered over most other members of the crew, too. Even with that medical gown covering most of his body, the man´s muscles were clearly visible. He musta really liked working out while kicking Collector ass.

But Zaeed was not impressed. This was the son of a bitch what had snuck past him on the derelict then? Didn't look as impressive without the set of power armor.

Pale bastard though. Didn't like to go without the power armor? Massani couldn't blame him.

"So," said Zaeed. This so-called "ultimate soldier" as the crew now called him needed some new gear. His old suit got messed up from his fight with a legion of Collector troops, falling from orbit and kicking batarian ass.

Alright, so maybe Zaeed _was_ impressed. First the young Commander had laid a verbal smackdown on his head with all the authority of a deity, and then this bastard had broken Zaeed's crash survival record in one attempt. His time on the _Normandy_ was getting more interesting with each passing day.

"Zaeed Massani?" Said the man. His hair was short and dark, just like all those military saps, but his eyes were a different story. Goddamn bright and blue, like they were artificial. Damn. Those rumors might be true after all.

Massani nodded. "You the Master Chief? Figured you'd be dropping by. Shepard told me you'd need a new hardsuit."

"Right."

"Guess Shepard foresaw that. Got the armor lockers right here. What are you lookin' for?"

The Master Chief entered the room and glanced at the various hardsuits. "I prefer heavy armor. What do you recommend?"

"Hah…figured as much. Look at this. The Predator L/M/H Armor sets, from Armax Arsenal." Massani took out the only heavy model of the Predator that the _Normandy_ had. "It's a rare sonofabitch who can use this baby effectively. Most lack the training and guts to wear heavy armor on the front lines, but I guess that's not an issue with you." He chuckled at the joke. "Goddamn disavowed bastard nearly throttled me to death while wearing one of these. But in the end, lune forgot to wear his helmet… nailed him right between the eyes."

"What sort of protection are we talking?"

"You won't find better shields than this thing. Won't do you much good if an Overload nails you, but the V model can shrug off quite a few rounds. Don't expect your armor to save you if you're caught in a crossfire; armor's meant to last till you get your ass behind cover."

The Master Chief observed the suit for a heartbeat. "And the helmet?"

"The visor polarizes, but won't protect you against a headshot. Not like that bucket of yours did." Massani chuckled, remembering how he had once blown open the helmet of a krogan Battlemaster with a shotgun. "Some people forget about thst."

The Master Chief nodded, apparently approving of the suit. The next few minutes were spent actually suiting the big guy up. The Predator model was green, like Shepard had recommended. But Massani had seen the vids and read the reports of this soldier in action. Hell, he had even seen the bastard walk around the cargo hold and the crew quarters a few times. He was even bigger in that power armor of his.

Really impressive.

Zaeed watched the soldier suit up and then nodded. "Whaddaya know? It fits."

The Chief took his helmet and then promptly polarized the visor, to that Massani was only faced with a dark, golden reflection. "Thanks."

Massani nodded. "No problem. You might wanna run by the quarian down at engineering to get the software fixed. The suit's internal computer won't do much good otherwise."

The Master Chief nodded. Not much of a talker. Zaeed could appreciate that, too. The Commander was all charming and charismatic, but she was far too fond of…chattering…for his liking.

After a quick check-up to see if the kinetic barriers were working, the soldier was ready to go. A good thing, too. Massani had worked with all sorts of creeps and thrash, but this Master Chief felt wrong. Hell of a soldier, but wrong. No man could hold off a batarian slave raid on his own, not for that long. And that Collector ship had fallen apart for a reason.

Goddamn super soldier crap had him on his edge. He had been nervous.

Zaeed Massani didn't get fucking nervous.

It was time to have a little chat with Shep´ about who she let aboard the ship, sooner or later.

On the other hand…he could use some shore leave. Maybe he´d have a chat _after_ they finished their business on the Citadel.

~0~

* * *

 **2 hours later**

 ** _Normandy_ bridge**

The Master Chief walked up to the cockpit, giving the slightest of nods to Joker when he greeted him. Garrus did the same, but the Chief couldn't be bothered to greet an alien.

Jane sat down on the co-pilot's chair, threw her legs over one of the chair's arms and brushed a strand of blood-red hair out of her eyes. "Such a beautiful sight," she commended. "Shame it's a Reaper doomsday device."

Joker was far too optimistic. "Come on Shepard, it's not like the Citadel can actually kill us. It was just meant to release hordes of mechanical monstrosities on us:"

The Chief merely glanced at the windows, wondering why the cockpit was at the literal front of the ship. A single well-placed shot could leave the ship crippled. The same was true for some UNSC ship classes, but at least those bridges weren't placed at the very nose of the ship. Facing the incoming enemy fire.

At least there were bulkheads.

The _Normandy_ drifted through a giant, purple cloud, a nebula most likely. It reminded the Master Chief of the altered Slipspace battle, on _Ascendant Justice's_ hull. Where he had lost Li and Anton. The cloud´s haunting beauty did not help either.

A few moments later, he saw the Citadel itself. He had read up on the station, prepared himself for what was to come, and yet the station still disappointed him somewhat. After his time on Installation 04 and Delta Halo, his rampage across High Charity and the critical victories on the Ark, he had expected the hub of these galactic civilization to be…bigger.

At more than forty kilometers long, it was of course a very impressive fortress. And, he was glad to see, it looked a lot more peaceful than High Charity. The five arms that spread out from the Citadel´s center ring was covered with clear lines of light, which represented entire cities on its surface.

 _"I wager shooting your way out of that station is contingency plan C?"_ Said Cortana. The hardsuit still allowed him to mute his comm so that others wouldn't hear him converse with a voice in his head, but it felt different somehow.

The Chief frowned. How much damage would a salvo of mass accelerator rounds do to the Citadel? How many people would die if a single ship unleashed its main weapons on the Citadel's surface? What if the batarians dropped by for a suicide attack run? "Plenty of maneuvering options. As long as they don't send in air support."

 _"Nobody in this galaxy plays fair, Chief."_

The _Normandy_ drifted towards the Citadel, until Joker pressed a button on the holographic display and asked for clearance. They were referred to one of the docks and granted clearance to board the Citadel. The Master Chief knew that most of Shepard´s squad was itching to get aboard the Citadel and get about their business, but he wasn't very keen on wandering around a station where the aliens outnumbered the humans. He had armed himself with an MA5 and ammo to spare, as well as two sidearms for emergency situations.

When he actually got to the Citadel though, he was in for a surprise. Garrus almost immediately took the Commander with him for a personal assignment, leaving the Chief to ponder how it was possible for aliens and humans to interact with each other on a scale like this.

He saw humans chatting away with asari, comparing weapons in a store, working with interactive entertainment in a different store and even patrol the halls with aliens. As the various crewmembers of the _Normandy_ dispersed and went about their business, the Master Chief took the earliest opportunity to break off from the group and head out on his own.

 _"Penny for your thoughts, Chief?"_ Asked Cortana.

"It's so different," he replied after a moment's thought. "Not like the _Normandy._ "

" _The aliens?"_

As the Master Chief walked past the Citadel's various markets, shops and walkways, seeing aliens everywhere he looked, he realized that he had subconsciously been tensing up. Ready to strike at a moment's notice. "They're too close."

" _Easy. They're not hostiles."_

Easy for her to say. To him, it felt like he was constantly being watched. Asari, turians, salarians. Even some krogan and other alien forms he hadn't seen in combat before. It was unreal to him, watching non-humans go about their daily life, doing…civilian things. Wandering around aimlessly, buying trivial thing like groceries or devices for amusement, chatting with other aliens.

They were getting too close to him, and he had to consciously keep from lashing out. The volus looked like Grunts, the turians looked like Elites. Even the krogan reminded him of Brutes. It was difficult to discern between them.

It was a world he couldn't accept. Wouldn't accept. Aliens living peacefully with humans? Impossible. The Elites aiding the UNSC in the final push on the Ark was one thing. But actual peace and coexistence? Impossible. The First-Contact War had been a clear sign of that; humanity would always be targeted by those that deemed themselves better, or morally-superior.

"S-Sec is filled with these things," the Chief replied. "They're armed."

Keeping himself calm and under control proved to be a taxing experience. Every movement they made, every random, non-coordinated gesture they pulled just screamed at him for a lethal response.

At least they weren't glaring at him. They just went about their daily business, not caring for the larger-than-average human that strode in their midst.

The Spartan had been spending roughly twenty minutes walking around these so-called wards when Commander Shepard contacted him. He immediately recognized her frequency and accepted her hail, secretly hoping that she had something more interesting for him to do than squander time amidst civvies.

" _Master Chief, we've got a situation!"_

"Copy that," replied the Chief. He was eager for a change of pace, though the gunfire on Shepard's end of the line was odd. "What are your orders?"

" _I need you to take a sky transport to the Presidium! I was supposed to meet an asari called 'the Consort' there, but -Garrus, cover Thane! – we spotted someone's ass we couldn't afford to miss."_

The Master Chief did not copy that last one. "Shepard?"

" _It was too valuable an ass to lose! I need you to fill in for me. Someone's been stalking her. Did I mention I'm being shot at?"_

"Commander, with respect, a firefight on the Citadel seems like a more urgent matter than a stalker."

Soldiers always stayed calm when faced with possible death, but Shepard sounded like she _belonged_ on the battlefield. " _It's not that uncommon, actually. Garrus, nail that mech! But Sha'ira being stalked is bad, Chief. You don't stalk the Consort. Not if you want to have any shot at a successful life. Whoever is after her, is serious business."_

"How do you know that?"

" _What can I say? Biotics have a feel for Biotics. Her secretary won't let you through unless you challenge her. You_ can _arm-wrestle her, or reply to "Azure" with "Varren pack". Now would you kindly go and save her blue butt?"_

"Copy that. Good luck, Commander."

As soon as he cut the link, Cortana chimed in. " _So, that sounds ominous. I did some research on this Consort. Apparently, she's a big deal in the Presidium. Not quite a working lady, but definitely one with connections."_

His omni-tool flashed with new directions and the Spartan immediately booked it. "What do you mean?"

" _Sorry, it appears such subtlety is in part lost on you without your helmet. She brings comfort to people, but also advice and spiritual guidance."_

"So, she's important?"

" _More than you realize. Jane´s right; someone stalking the Consort would be comparable to someone stalking a high-ranking ONI officer."_

The Master Chief reached the navigation point and was faced with an autonomous X3M skycar. "Whoever is after this asari is either a fool, or very confident."

" _And you don´t need an Artificial Intelligence telling you that either one can cause a bloodbath."_

The Spartan made a connection via his omni-tool and, instead of uploading credits to pay for the ride to this 'Presidium', let Cortana upload an IOU.

" _So how do you plan to stop this person?"_

The Chief stepped aboard the vehicle and allowed Cortana to control it. "Spartan plan A."

" _Ah, the famous Spartan plan A. Shoot the problem until it disappears. Got it."_

And with that last remark, Cortana substituted the "VI" that normally controlled the skycar for her own programming and drove them straight towards the Embassies, the political powerhouses of the Citadel. It seemed like a beautiful place to John, who was surprised at the soothing aspects of the stark white floors and walls of the buildings. The place even had a lake, though Cortana seemed adamant about telling him that there weren't any fish inside of it.

There weren't any guards inside of the Consort Chambers, despite this Sha'ira seeing clients like Spectres and politicians. The entrance to the chambers seemed to turn into a lounge, which in turn led around another corner.

There was just one person standing in the Master Chief's way and luckily, she was just an asari. Humanoid and relatively non-hostile.

She wanted to greet him with a long speech about how busy the consort was, but the Spartan had no patience for that. "I'm here on Commander Shepard's behalf," he said.

The asari didn't change her behavior, but the Chief still detected some changes in her expression. She seemed to tense up. "Ah, Commander Shepard. I remember the Consort speaking of her antics in the Azure hotel."

"Varren pack," replied the Spartan.

" _Just when I thought you couldn't get any blunter, you go ahead and mount a Gravity Hammer on a Hunter's shield."_

The asari was taken aback by his sudden response, but she quickly recovered. "I am glad to see you passed the challenge. The previous one was unable to and-"

At that, all of the Chief's alarm bells started ringing. "The previous one?"

"Ah…yes. An asari visited here just an hour ago, claiming that she was here on the Commander's behalf. She was unable to pass the test, however."

Then this stalker had already made his move. Or hers, if it was an Asari. "Where is the Consort now?"

"Still in her quarters. I implore you to hurry; she grows more restless with each passing minute."

The Spartan nodded and immediately headed down the lounge, past the various clients and towards corner, which turned out to lead up to a pair of stairs. Another short hallway with unnecessary decorations led to a door.

Which was locked.

The Chief slammed his fist against the metal door. "Sha'ira? I'm with Commander Shepard."

No response. Of course not, anyone could just barge in here and claim the same. She would be smart to show a little suspicion.

"Challenge is "Azure"," the Chief then added. A minute trickled past, then two.

When the Consort failed to give her response after the third minute, the Master Chief told Cortana to hack the door to let them pass. Something didn't feel right here; if the Consort knew that someone would be coming to help her deal with this stalker of hers, why would she refuse to even answer the door? There was paranoid, and there was stupid. He had given her secretary the required challenge, which the imposter had failed to do.

" _Hmm…the security override takes longer than expected. Who would place military-grade encryption on a door in a place like this?"_

"Sounds like the Consort liked her privacy," replied the Spartan.

" _Yeah. Too bad I don't do "private". Opening in three, two, one."_

The door slid open and the Master Chief immediately barged inside, his rifle at the ready to take care of any potential hostiles who might be holding Sha'ira hostage, or attempt to stage an ambush.

He analyzed the tactical situation in an instant. The room was medium-sized, roughly ten by ten meters. There was an odd, purple pod with a bed in it positioned at his left, which might contain enemy combatants waiting for him to turn his back. Small pieces of furniture were positioned to his right, which could be used as cover. At the far end of the room, opposite of the Chief, a large, wide window had been installed, granting a bird's eye view of the surrounding wards. Or would have, had the curtains not been closed.

The Spartan held all these factors into consideration as he spotted the prone, lifeless form of an asari, lying on the couch in the center of the room.

" _Looks like we're too late,"_ said Cortana.

He could _see_ the small puddle of blood that had formed on the ground, dripping from the couch. And after he had secured the room, making sure that nobody would be jumping him as he investigated closer, he verified where it came from.

It wasn't hard to miss, and there was no use checking for a pulse. Someone had assaulted the Consort and torn out her throat, leaving behind a massive, gaping wound in her delicate neck. A thin stream of purple blood was all that remained of the asari's struggle for life. The wound was very deep and ragged around the edges, obviously not the work of any bladed weapon. This was done by an animal, viciously biting down with pointed teeth designed for tearing and shredding flesh.

Sha'ira would have bled out within moments.

It reminded the Master Chief too much of the bite of a Jackal. For a brief moment, he was back on Jericho VII, glancing down at the dozens of viscerally-slaughtered marines and civilians. Dismembered, mutilated, burned. The stench of burned flesh, feces and blood was thick in the air. The Grunts and Jackals had made them suffer, for sport, for entertainment. Genocidal cruelty.

" _Hellooo? Chief? You're staring off."_

The Chief snapped out of his thought and banished the memory of blood on his gauntlets. "What did this to her?" He asked, gently reaching out for the body and closing her eyes. It seemed like such a trite thing to do, but what else _could_ he do?

" _Analyzing codes from the door now. Save for us, the room was only opened twice this day. Nothing useful there…patching you through to Shepard."_

The Master Chief nodded, taking note of how the body was positioned on the couch. Something felt wrong. "Shepard?"

" _Chief."_

The Spartan waited for the Commander to continue. When she didn't, he decided that her firefight must be over by now. "Sha'ira is dead. We were too late."

After a small moment of silence, Shepard sighed. " _I promised her…fuck. Did you catch the killer?"_

"Negative. The door was locked. No sign of forced entry or a struggle. The killer is gone."

" _That's just great. A murder mystery. Stay there, I'm on my way."_

"Copy that. I'll…"

That was when the Spartan glanced at the window again, noticing just _what_ was wrong. There was a small trail of blood leading from the floor at the window leading to the couch.

The Chief raised his rifle and slowly approached the window. The curtains had been closed alright, but the window was a flat sheet of glass and the dark fabric should have tightly hugged its frame. There were even some weights at its lower points to ascertain that.

So why was there a small bump in the curtains?

"…I'm belaying my previous comment. I don't think the killer left just yet."

" _What? Chief, be very careful! Your injuries haven't healed yet, and your shields won't protect you against anything that isn't gunfire!"_

The Chief copied her last and then disabled his private comms. "Hands behind your head and come out from behind the curtains," he sharply ordered the figure hiding at the window. When the person didn't comply, the Master Chief clicked off the safety of his assault rifle and fired off a three-round burst at where the culprit's legs had to be positioned.

The rounds tore through the thin curtain and found their mark, but there was no audible or visible reaction to the gunfire.

So the Spartan immediately closed in on the figure and pulled the curtains away with one hand, preparing to spent an entire magazine with his rifle in the other-

\- there was nobody there. A small, spherical hole had been burned through the glass right where the bump had been, allowing the wind to blow past the curtains.

" _This seems to be the spot where the killer got in."_

John frowned and observed the hole more closely. It looked like the work of a professional with breaching equipment. But who-?

Shots impacted on the already-weakened window and it finally collapsed, shattering into a thousand pieces. The Master Chief instantly decided upon the most reasonable thing to do when faced with a scenario like this.

" _Oh, you have got to be kidding me!"_ Cortana all but screamed as he leapt through the screen of falling pieces of razor-sharp glass and into the incoming storm of mass accelerator rounds.

~0~

* * *

[ **SECURITY ACCESS GRANTED. UNSC TECHNOLOGICAL INFORMATION CODEX UNLOCKED]**

 **SUBJECT: M12Z FORCE APPLICATION VEHICLE – "DELTA FORCE" VARIANT**

 _Unofficially nicknamed after a famous pre-UNSC special operations unit, The M12Z Combat Guard Vehicle is a four-wheel all-terrain light truck capable of going over any obstacle without difficulty; under the hood is a forward-housed low-profile liquid-cooled hydrogen-injected ICE I/C plant, coupled with an infinitely variable transmission (IVT)._

 _While initially meant solely for scouting and reconnaissance duties, multiple total losses during the Human-Covenant war forced the "Warthog" to take up increasingly- active roles in ground combat, where its open nature has led to a large amount of casualties._

 _After the Human-Covenant War, the UNSC recognized the need for a more protected M12 and AMG Transport Dynamics developed the M12Z, an armored M12 designed to both withstand as dish out impressive firepower. Its Light Armored Car chassis has already been used for several models, including one carrying the rotary six-barrel M343 Saber machine gun._


	14. Chapter 14: Machinations

Chapter 14, in which things go wrong.

~0~

* * *

 **Citadel**

 **Presidium**

[ **TIME-STAMP CLASSIFIED PER STG ORDERS]**

[ **DATA EXPUNGED]**

STG Operative Rentola stood by the Councillor's side, his arms crossed behind his back. The Councillor was reviewing his written report of the research into the background events, radiation and noises coming from beyond the Terminus.

The account was a hundred and six pages long, the first sixty of which were details regarding his specific findings, the data pulled from listening stations and other, less publicly known points. The twenty pages after those were aimed at discussing the potential implications from these logs, varying from the Reaper phenomena that had gripped some of his fellow STG members to the idea of a new civilization.

The last twenty pages were basically arguments pertaining to the Mass Relay network, the Rachni and Lieutenant Commander "Jane" Shepard, aimed at convincing any readers that an undertaking to activating dormant Mass Relays should be funded.

Valern took ten minutes reading the dossier, u very long time for a salarian, but at long last he finished. "Hmm…this is highly disturbing, Rentola. If your case is true, there is an alien civilization waiting for us, beyond the Terminus System. One advanced enough to have caused a large quantity of signals over the past century. I am especially concerned with the notion that _zero_ Mass Relays lead _out of_ this region."

Rentola waited for the Councillor to finish, then calmly delivered the argument he had memorized flawlessly. "There are three major ideas explaining why this region of space -dubbed Section Zero for conversational purposes- lacks any noticeable Mass Relays. The first is the most likely: the Council simply did not encounter any yet. The second requires more historical basis: that the Protheans failed to finish the Mass Relay network before their mysterious disappearance. The third is more wild, as it assumes that the Relays there were destroyed in some catastrophe."

Valern nodded. "But all three warrant an investigation. The stigma on dormant Relays that the Rachni wars left behind is still noticeable, despite Shepard's claims to the contrary. "

"It is my personal opinion that we should seek out any Relay that might into Section Zero. The Relay's navigational logs _should_ tell us where its connecting Relay rests."

The Councillor sighed. "I have been wondering about this. Uplifting another species to deal with the possible threat could be a disaster."

"But what we might find, will eventually make its way into our space as well. Had we not found the Rachni, the Rachni would have found us."

"Agreed. Thank you for your report, Operative Rentola. You may return to your station until further notice. This topic warrants…delicate handling."

The STG member nodded and quickly left the room, secretly hoping that there was a better way to convince Sparatus and Tevos than mere logic.

Although Tevos had seemed positively miserable today. He wondered why that was.

~0~

* * *

 **Terminus Systems**

 **Batarian Frigate _Pride of Kar'shan_**

 **In orbit around Omega**

The batarian barely had the time to shout in alarm before Everheart reached out and enveloped it in a corona of dark-blue light, bypassed its shields and immobilized it. He allowed the creature to utter one last terrified scream before he increased the intensity of the mass-effect fields to separate its body from its head.

The blood went absolutely everywhere. It was a rather visceral scene, and Everheart wondered if this was why his mother had told him never to use his Biotics against other people. He regretted not having discovered it sooner; life would have been so much easier for him if he could just lift his problem and _pull_.

Its partner roared in anger and more bullets were sent downrange. Everheart grunted as the tiny slugs slammed into the high-gravity mass effect fields surrounding his body, and the dull pain that followed their impacts sent a spike through the field. He guided it with his will, and it erupted outwards, spiking the other batarian through his head. It too slumped to the ground, finally putting an end to the taxing fight.

The recently-freed slave stepped over the remains of the slavers, somewhat disgruntled at his lack of clothes. He left a literal trail of viscera behind him as he inadvertently had to wade through the gore, and he had no idea how to do this in a more subtle way, because the weapons he picked up always seemed to overheat and then refuse to continue firing.

Guns. So useless. Sure, they worked well for the aliens who would thunder down the hallway and try to cut him down at knee-level because they knew how the things _worked._ Everheart could only pin down his prey and try to figure out which barrel the actual fire came out of, before the aliens died of blood-loss or physical trauma.

As if eager to prove his point, a door opened and one of the bigger aliens rapidly marched towards him through the narrow hallways of the alien vessel, toting a gun that was bigger than most of Everheart's limbs. The big brute rumbled something about 'pets' that needed to get back to their 'cage' and then opened fire, uselessly splashing rounds against his powerful Walls without realizing it.

William Everheart had never seen this particular alien before, not even during the raid. Reptilian, with a big lump on his back, and annoyingly resilient. Like a big turtle, the ones in the biology books at school.

He reached out and increased the creature's mass, effectively pinning him down without having to bother with other, more tiring techniques. However, when he proceeded to fire his stolen pistol at the alien until the weapon overheated, the creature wasn't even bothered by it!

"Coward!" The alien spat at him. "Try a real man's weapon!"

Everheart thought the notion of assigning gender roles to guns somewhat silly, and remained silent while enveloping the alien's gun-wielding arm with a corona of mass-effect fields, before completely ripping the limb off.

As a young boy, he had always found the sound of things tearing to be interesting. Branches, plastic, metal, the sound of hard matter resisting for a split-second before yielding had something gratifying, and he quickly discovered that flesh wasn't any different. The alien howled in pain and clutched the ragged, bleeding stump under his shoulder, and Everheart had thought that enough to render the alien incapacitated.

He was wrong, in a spectacular way.

The alien's screams turned into a loud, boisterous bellow and then the turtle-thing started charging him, simply ignoring the fact that his body now weighed twice as much.

William watched the alien close in on him, puzzled at its sudden ferocity, and was about to demand the alien to explain what it thought it was doing, before it crashed into him with all the force of a speeding aircar and sent him skidding back through the blood-covered hallway.

Now he was no stranger to physical violence. Children were cruel, violent, sadistic little wretches. His scars that _weren't_ caused by experimenting with Biotics, were pretty much the by-product of a little something that made children loathe him. What that something was, even his mother hadn't known.

So when Everheart clumsily crawled back to his feet, now covered in the blood that still coated the ground, he was shocked that the alien could have done that to him with one meagre strike. He was fairly sure that this alien would have killed him had it not been for his Walls.

It was a frightening thought, and the fear quickly turned into more anger. What was this thing? It wasn't one of the batarians. Was this their boss?

And just like that, his anger subsided somewhat. Finally, someone who could be of use to him!

"Where is my mother?" He demanded

The creature was not going to comply, if the way it snarled and resumed its charge was any indication.

Oh well. At least he could have some fun with this one.

The alien bellowed and initiated what would be its last charge. Everheart created two lances of kinetic energy that spun towards the alien from two different directions. He guided their movements with his hands, and let them slam into the slaver's right knee. The two fields collapsed on impact and produced the effect of two obscenely large hands slamming into the aliens leg from two different directions.

 _*Crack*._

Stupidly oblivious to pain or not, the alien could not keep sprinting on one leg, and the creature fell face-first into the blood-smeared hallway where its companions had fallen before it.

It snarled, roared and reached for its leg, then lay there for a few moments.

"Calmed down yet?" William told the slaver. His heart was pounding, and the stench of blood was riling him up. He had to make a conscious effort to hold himself back. After a lifetime of bullying and ostracizing and obeying his mother in not indulging in bloody retaliation, he suddenly found himself without any reason to hold back. It was an interesting experience.

The alien screamed in response and then proceeded to drag himself towards Everheart with its remaining limbs, cursing and sputtering all the way.

Everheart rolled with his eyes. Fine, he told himself. One more.

He struck the alien's other leg with a fine, angled layer of mass effect fields, peeling away the layer of armor, then the skin, then the tendrils that connected the creature's tendrils to its bones. A most painful experience, no doubt. He had to commend the thing's ability of not dying. A _lot_ of its comrades had bled like pigs in this ship. "Fine. Be that way. I could use a little…what do people call it? Self-indulgence? I'm still getting used to words…"

The big hump on the back of the alien's neck seemed to shiver, and its various wounds stopped bleeding.

Interesting. "Cowardly fuck…how did you escape the Metal-Whisperer?"

William took a hold of the alien's head, tethering his own hand to its body with a thin Biotic link.

Then he smiled. "Cowardly…that's humans. You forgot weak-willed and prone to self-victimizing."

He paused, wondering if that was the word he was looking for. He knew words, but sometimes the meaning of those words eluded him. "If that is the proper one…forgive me my mishaps, I did not even speak until I was seven years old. Where was I?"

The alien gurgled, and orange blood seeped from its lips. "Bah…you are a _freak_ boy! You count on your Biotics to see you through!"

"Hmm…Biotics…guns…what difference does it make?" Everheart licked his blood-stained lips, still caked with batarian blood. "Now, I am going to ask you _one_ question, so do try to be coherent. Where is my mother?"

The alien's response existed out of a mouthful of blood and saliva, spat at Everheart's face. "Human females don't last long here, boy! The womb that shat you out will be for the Void and-"

Rage took a hold of Williams heart and he brought his fist down hard, letting the Biotic link slam the alien's skull into the metal floor with enough force to dent it. Always, everyone _insisted_ on making life as difficult as possible!

The slaver's head came down again with a wet crack, and trickles or orange blood stuck to the ground.

From the day father had left to the day the monsters had come to take mother and him away from their home, there hadn't been a single person who could just let it pass. Why couldn't they just let it go?

Another dull crack, and the alien's face was pulped against the warped metal. Pieces of flesh and skin stuck to the floor as Everheart raised it again.

Why couldn't anyone just let it go?

He smashed the alien's head against the floor again and again, until its skull had been reduced to splinters, its brain to grey-yellow paste.

It was long since dead by the time Everheart managed to gain control over himself again, and he found himself panting with exertion. Never before had he truly murdered someone for insulting his mother. Oh, he had tried, several times, but she had always stopped him.

 _"Be the bigger man,"_ she would tell him, and he would ask her why his height was important, completely forgetting about the rage and homicidal feelings that the others had caused him.

And she would smile. And now she was gone, and the aliens had her.

He _would_ get her back.

The human continued in his rampage through the batarian slave-ship, smearing the walls with their blood and guts until he came across something that distracted him from his disjointed and jumbled feelings.

It was a window, large and broad, displaying a most unusual sight. It was a massive, mushroom-shaped moon, glowing with red lights and surrounded by floating chunks of rocks and other ships.

For a moment, Everheart forgot that he was searching for the one person in the galaxy he cared about, and just _stared_ at the looming form of the structure. _That?_ He thought, fear and trepidation quickly creeping up on him. _I have to traverse that?_

He tore his gaze away from the menacing shape and banished the fear from his mind. He couldn't use it. The hesitation had to go as well. He stuffed those dark thoughts into little boxes and locked them away, to be pondered over another time.

There were more urgent problems to handle, anyway. The doors on the opposite end of the hallway opened, a trio of batarians barged inside and the slaughter continued.

~0~

* * *

 **Citadel**

 **Factory District**

"Damnit! Where did he get these guys?" Garrus exclaimed as yet another wave of the LOKI Mechs stepped out of a large container, soon followed by a group of Blue Suns mercenaries who had their egos bolstered by their robotic reinforcements.

Jane didn't know where Harkin got these chumps, and neither did she particularly care. She slapped one of the LOKI's with a Singularity, pulled it and two others into the air and then allowed the heavy gravitic forces to crush them, compressing them into a big metal ball which she then launched at the Blue Sun heavy who was about to fire off another missile.

The improvised projectile crashed into the soldier with the force of a charging krogan and threw him off the crane he had been using as a vantage point.

Next to her, Thane sighted in through his scope and put a round through the falling merc's head, before downing two more Blue Suns in quick succession.

"They are down," he told her.

The Commander watched as Garrus reproduced that same pearl of marksmanship and shrugged.

Garrus' complaints had been for administrative purposes only; the Blue Suns were unable to even slow them down, and the LOKI's that managed to crawl away from her Biotic onslaught were quickly finished off by Tali, who seemed that much more aggressive when fighting synthetics.

Garrus headed deeper into the Factory District, unfolding his assault rifle and suppressing a squad of mercs as they rounded the corner.

And not just mercs, either.

Garrus' reaction about summed up Jane's own feelings on the matter. "Aww, crap! Two heavy mechs, inbound!"

Thane Biotically Threw one of the mercenaries in front of the other, who accidentally gunned his buddy down.

"Timothy, noooooo!"

Shepard reached out and grabbed an hold of the remaining Blue Sun and threw him in front of the YMIR as it unloaded its mass accelerator chaingun, half expecting the same amusing reaction.

And she was sorely disappointed. The YMIR simply stepped over the dead merc's body without even acknowledging the unfriendly fire and continued peppering away at their shields and, in her case, Barriers.

The four of them hunkered down behind one of the metal crates, keeping their heads down as the two heavy mechs approached them.

"We can't lose Harkin!" Growled Garrus.

"Don't worry now, we won't," replied Jane.

Tali squirmed uneasily. "Shepard, please tell me you have a plan?"

The Commander shrugged again. "Not really-"

The YMIR's suddenly stopped firing as their internal mechanisms kicked in, preventing their chainguns from accidentally overheating.

"-but now I do!"

And with that, Shepard leapt over the metal crate and threw a Singularity field down between the two mech's, pulling both of them off-balance and against each other. Normally, Biotics weren't all that suited for breaking through shields. The conflicting mass effect fields normally cancelled each other out. It took an especially-powerful Biotic to break through and as luck would have it, the universe considered Jane as one.

As she went to work, the rest of her team emerged from their cover and cut loose as well. Tali overloaded several of the first YMIR's shield emitters, allowing Thane and Garrus to punch through with several successive sniper shots. With its rocket-arm now exposed, the YMIR could only rely on its armor to protect it and Shepard was free to mess it up.

So she did. She enveloped the mech's rocket-arm with several rapidly-shifting mass effect fields and then ripped its entire arm free, after which she whipped it around and ran her Biotics through its internal structure, silently hoping that it still carried some rockets.

It did; two of them. Good enough for her.

While Jane hit the YMIR in its face with two high-explosive rockets, completely downing its shields, Garrus lined up the perfect shot and let her fly.

A projectile the size of a piece of rice punched through the heavy mech's head, causing the funny metallic appendage to pop off.

"Nice shot!" shouted Tali. "Now it's reactors are going critical!"

"Exactly," countered Jane. "Get to cover!"

As the team ran for the high ground with their metaphorical tails between their legs, the second YMIR opened fire on them with its chaingun, seemingly oblivious to the impending doom that its buddy had become.

Jane scowled and in a reflex, thrust her hands towards the YMIR, creating a field of whirling mass effect fields that served to absorb the heavy machinegun fire until the rest of her team had gotten themselves behind cover. The impacts drained her energy reserves with each and every bullet that she caught, but she had plenty left, and by the time the YMIR had to cool its weapon down, the downed one was finished powering up.

The explosion that followed was enough to consume the second YMIR, the fallen bodies and a part of the floor. When the cloud of dust and smoke cleared up, all that was left was a smouldering wreckage lying on the ground.

"And that's how it's done," remarked Jane. Harkin, that corrupt asshat, was getting desperate. He raised six platforms in front of his little hidey hole, as if afraid that they would snipe him through the wall. A few LOKI's appeared atop the hallway to the left of the office, but Jane effortlessly crushed them into heaps of scrap with several devastating Biotic fields and then the coast was clear again.

"Your brutality is to be commended, Shepard," said Thane.

Jane smirked like a little child. "You haven't seen any true brutality yet, Thane."

And with that, the four of them were free to nail Harkin to the wall.

Figurately speaking, of course. The ex-C-Sec officer had some very important information for Garrus. The whereabouts of the turian who had betrayed him and his team to the gangs of Omega, namely.

Sidonis was responsible for a _lot_ of grief.

Jane opened the door while Garrus circled around. Harkin had to know better than to run, but the moron still tried to flee upon sighting her. Not too surprising, considering she had broken his wrist at three different places during their first ever meeting on the Citadel.

Jenkins' death had left her in a foul mood, and his sexist remarks had been the last straw.

And perhaps it wasn't surprising that Garrus brutally intercepted him and smashed him against the wall, before throwing him back to the ground.

Thane and Tali kept their distance. There wouldn't be any mercy for Harkin today.

"Why, hello Fade," said Jane. "Stupid nickname, if you ask me. You didn't manage to "fade" away in time, didn't you?"

The man was probably going to raise his voice in protest, but Garrus stomping him in his stomach kind of put a lid to that.

"Princess twinkle-toes would have been a better name…" Jane trailed off, realizing that Garrus looked _really_ pissy. "You know, you _could_ just tell us what we want to know."

Playing nice got her a rude comment.

Making a rude comment got Harkin a turian foot on his throat.

Jane raised an eyebrow at that. "It's really easy. Set us up with a meeting for Sidonis and we're out of here."

Harkin grumbled something.

"I might even leave without breaking your other wrist."

Harkin choked out a garbled response.

"Perhaps just a bit."

Harkin turned purple.

"Hey, are you even listening to me?"

Harkin turned blue.

"Ah…right. Ehm Garrus, we need him…not dead? Ease up, please?"

The turian scowled, but released the corrupt ex-cop before he could turn into a dead ex-cop.

After half a minute of sputtering and wheezing, Harkin staggered towards the nearby terminal. "Alright…fine...you don't need to break nothin'."

And just like that, an arrangement with Sidonis was arranged. Funny how easy some things could be solved with a healthy dose of violence.

"There, I did what you asked," Harkin said with noticeable desperation in his voice. "You can just…let me go now…right?"

"Ah ah ah…I didn't give you permission to leave yet," said Jane.

Harkin scowled at her. "What, want me to call you 'mistress' and bent over?"

Jane was pondering to make the man do just that, when Garrus suddenly pulled a gun on him.

"Wrong response," he said, before taking aim.

Jane sighed and gently lowered Vakarian's gun with a biotic nudge. "He doesn't need to become a literal asshole. No need to kill him."

"Kill him? No, but I don't mind slowing him down a bit…"

"Garrus, no shooting unarmed people. Let it go."

The turian grumbled something foul-tongued that the Commander was sure was aimed at the dirty cop at the ground, and he reluctantly placed his sidearm back at his holster

As Jane and her teammates turned to leave again however, Harkin still had something to say. "No shooting unarmed people eh? They must have taught you that _after_ Elysium!"

Jane halted. Took a few moments to carefully think of the best approach, and fought to keep her Biotics suppressed. "Slow him down just a bit."

Harkin had just enough time to demand a rather panicked "what?" before Garrus whipped around, pulled his sidearm out and shot him in his leg in one smooth movement.

"Hmmm…" Tali mused as Jane walked past her. "He's lucky. I wouldn't have shot him in his leg."

Jane really appreciated the concern that her team had for her privacy and feelings regarding Elysium, and especially loathed it whenever people brought that little peculiar hell up.

As Shepard and her party moved to take a transport to the Orbital Lounge, Cortana suddenly popped up in her helmet, and the Commander was surprised to hear from her this soon. Had they reached Sha'ira already?

" _Shepard?"_ Said the gravelly, inscrutable voice of the Master Chief.

Jane's krogan-vibes went off, and she immediately replied, "Chief."

The Master Chief took a few moments to adjust, and then said, " _Sha'ira is dead. We were too late."_

Shepard felt something akin to a hand, squeezing her heart and not letting go. "I promised her…fuck." she muttered. The Consort had been panicked, absolutely freaked out, but the thought of Commander Shepard coming to her aid had soothed her fears. "Did you catch the killer?"

 _"Negative. The door was locked. No sign of a forced entry or struggle. The killer is gone."_

That left Jane with a big, ugly problem. Two, in fact. How the hell had this murderer eluded a super-soldier and his incredibly-advanced AI? "That's just great. A murder mystery. Stay there, I'm on my way."

 _"Copy that,"_ replied the Chief _. "I'll…"_

The man trailed off, and when Jane quickly signalled her team to double-time it to the transport, she realized that something was wrong. The Chief didn't just stop in the middle of verifying orders like that. Had someone spooked him?

" _I'm belaying my previous comment,"_ he then said, conforming Jane's suspicions. " _I don't think the killer left just yet."_

"What?" Shepard mentally berated herself for worrying about an augmented super-solder, but she would be damned if she lost him a second time. "Chief, be very careful! Your injuries haven't healed yet, and your shields won't protect you against anything that isn't gunfire!"

" _Yes Commander."_

And with that, he shut his comm off, leaving Jane guessing as to _what_ he would be fighting there in the consort chambers. Now she had two teammembers who were maybe getting in over their heads. Well, she could only concentrate on one of them at once, and Garrus was fuming so badly that he was basically emitting radiation at this point. It was time to address the real problem here.

"Garrus," Jane started, but the turian didn't want to hear anything.

"I know what you are going to try, and no, I am not going to reconsider."

"Garrus, you will be murdering someone who can't defend himself. Is this really what you want?"

"It is what he would have wanted!" Garrus snapped at her. "When he allowed those mercs to butcher my team. Did they get a chance for mercy? Someone to try and talk them out of it? I don't think so."

"So you are putting yourself in the position of the mercenaries?" Shepard then quietly asked.

He didn't reply to that. "There. See that spot? I can keep a close eye on the situation from there. Ill set up and you lure him in."

Jane wondered what she would have done, had someone betrayed this team to the Collectors. She wouldn't have shown mercy either…would she?

Damnit, Sha'ira's death was still weighing down on her heart. She wanted justice, yes. Revenge, of course. But this wasn't how she did things. Not after Elysium. "What…what do you need me to do?"

"Keep him talking while I line up the shot. It'll be quick and easy, unlike what the rest of my team went through…"

Jane sighed. She knew what she would have done in his place, and she knew what she would do now.

~0~

* * *

 **Consort chambers**

The Master Chief leapt through the shattering sheet of glass, bracing himself against the inevitable gunfire that splashed across his chest and helmet. The kinetic barriers worked perfectly and protected him against the blistering hail of bullets that the unseen assailant was firing at him.

He landed amidst a shower of broken glass, rolled over his shoulders to dissipate the momentum and immediately brought his assault rifle up, firing it one-handed at the rapidly-retreating form of the assassin. He quickly brought his other hand to his rifle, knelt down to one knee and shifted from a burst of rapid fire to a careful series of short, controlled bursts, taking care to avoid the screaming and running civilians that seemed determined to mess up his shots.

The few bullets that actually hit the hooded assassin were repulsed by some form of shielding and the Chief watched his quarry flee around the corner of a large, white building.

"Like hell," he muttered and quickly broke into a flat sprint, giving chase to the strangely-clothed hostile. This new suit was hardly his MJOLNIR though, and it took him a lot longer to reach his top speed, which now lay significantly lower.

Still, a Spartan sprinting without their armor was still a whole lot faster than the average sentient being, and he gained on the hostile within half a minute. He fired off pot-shots with his rifle, but in-between all the constant bobbing and weaving that the hostile performed to throw him off his aim, the panicking civilians and the hostile's absurdly-powerful shields, he wasn't getting anywhere.

" _Chief,"_ Cortana thankfully chimed in, displaying a map across his HUD. A crude map, but a map all the same. " _If you hurry, you can cut them off at the following junction and let them take the brunt of the fall. Shepard is going to be elated, and we won't have to explain two dead bodies to the Citadel Security forces."_

"Copy that," the Chief replied with a whisper, and then kicked his speed up a notch. Kelly would have chewed him out had she seen his performance, except he didn't know if Kelly or any of the others were still alive.

As they crossed through a large building filled with civilians, the hostile began fighting back, firing off Biotic attacks and spraying their six with gunfire, forcing the Chief to take a more careful approach. Judging by the screams behind him, they seemed to have hit the civilians with their idle attacks.

But he was getting closer with each thunderous step he took, and the hooded hostile was unable to shake him off, try as they might.

Then, right when they approached a balustrade and the assassin tried to take a sharp right, the Chief lunged. He kicked off and launched himself several meters forwards, crashing into the hostile's midsection and sending them plunging through the glass rail into a plummet of half a dozen meters.

Spartan time kicked in, and the Master Chief attempted to wrestle his opponent onto its back. The hood slid away, revealing a ghastly-pale, humanoid face with a row of razor-sharp teeth and red, unblinking eyes.

That was all the Spartan got to see before a field of Biotic energy erupted outwards from the alien, and he got knocked away from her falling frame as a result.

The Chief slammed into the ground and his rifle slipped from his grasp. A few meters away from him, the Biotic assassin gracefully landed on all fours and leapt backwards towards one of the several pillars that were spread out across the ground.

Slowly, the Master Chief rose back to his feet, clutching his bruised ribs. He caught a glimpse of a weapon in the alien's hands and immediately sought cover behind one of the white pillars as well, taking note of the odd appearance of the room.

" _Shepard is on her way!"_ Said Cortana. _"But so is C-Sec, so you need to wrap this up!"_

The Spartan nodded and banished the dull ache of his bruised ribs and whatever other damage that fall had caused. He pulled out his sidearm and whirled around the marble pillar, ready to open fire on whatever part of the assassin was unlucky enough to be sticking out of her cover.

But the hostile wasn't at her old cover anymore, and the Spartan barely managed to catch the vague outlines of something blue before his own cover erupted into an explosion of debris, rubble and Biotic energy, reducing it to nothingness.

The Chief gritted his teeth and returned fire on the hostile, but she seemed to disappear in a wash of blue Biotics and reappeared safely behind another pillar, unharmed and ready to return fire. She forced him back towards a different spot, before disappearing and reappearing behind one of the more distant pillars again, after which she lashed out and reduced the Chief's cover to a pile of rocks again.

The Spartan was surprised at the alien's level of Biotic control, and frustrated at her unwillingness to die. He opened fire on her wherever he caught her sight, but she always seemed to blur away after his bullets made contact with her nigh-impenetrable barrier

" _Watch out!"_ Cortana cried as the Master Chief ducked low and emptied his clip into the hostile's flaring body. " _She's-"_

Too late. The hostile risked being nailed by his gunfire and in return, lashed out with a powerful Biotic attack that somehow managed to pull him away from his cover and dangle him out in the open. The ceiling and the floor changed positions as the Singularity pulled him in and he was busy reloading when he realized what would come next.

A compressed ball of shifting mass effect fields impacted on the Singularity and the entire field exploded in a white flash of blue light and overwhelming pressure waves. His shields collapsed, his body was flung through the room and the dull pain of old wounds turned into a more wrenching one as they turned into fresh wounds.

Grunting, the Spartan leapt back to his feet and raised his pistol again, forcing the hostile back behind her cover with a quick and accurate burst of armor-piercing high-exploding rounds.

" _Enemy is an asari,"_ Cortana quickly said. " _But not one I have ever seen before. This must be a Matriarch, or a very skilled huntress. Don't let her hit you again -these Biotic explosions will shred your armor!"_

 _Easier said than done,_ thought the Chief. He tried to find cover and allow his depleted shields the time they needed to recharge, but the asari was relentless. She blasted him with one Biotic attack after another, striking him from multiple direction and all but forcing him to pull the most taxing manoeuvres to throw her off. He leapt out of the way, rolled over his shoulders and was even forced to perform a backflip-sort of move to avoid a blast of blue energy that washed over his armour and caused his HUD to pop and hiss with static.

He realized that he needed to finish this fight soon, but he couldn't get close to the asari. Without his MJOLNIR enhancing his movements and flawlessly integrating his thoughts, he was unable to close to distance fast enough without getting hit with another Singularity field.

The Spartan ducked behind one of the few remaining pillars remaining on his side of the battlefield and grunted in discomfort when his joints ached in protest.

But as it turned out, the alien didn't even need to pull him away with a Singularity. He peered around the edge of the white pillar just in time to spot a flash of blue that arced around his cover and slammed into him with the power of a charging Chieftain. It was powerful enough to send him flying back through the room for a good six or seven meters, before he hit the ground and skidded to a halt.

" _Chief!"_ Cried Cortana.

The Master Chief grunted in frustration and crawled back to his feet, searching for this elusive little alien SOB. His heartrate was spiking.

He didn't find her. Most of the pillars had been obliterated in the fight, but even those that remained were devoid of hostile contacts.

Where was she?

In an instant, the wall behind him exploded. He was pelted with dozens of pieces of rock, metal and debris, most of which his hardsuit blocked. Moving shapes barged into the room, screaming and shouting.

The Chief saw alien guns, and alien armor.

Spartan time kicked in.

" _Chief!"_

The Master Chief intercepted the first opponent before it could even raise its rifle and slammed his elbow against its chest, sending it staggering backwards. Not giving his opponent any quarter, the Chief followed up with a trio of lightning-fast jabs aimed at its helmet, which broke and shattered.

He immediately kicked the hostile that approached his left flank against the stomach, stepped closer and grabbed it by its flailing arm. He spun underneath the appendage, punched the hostile in the fork of its legs and then smashed its elbow joint.

" _Chief, wait!"_

His ears were ringing from the blast. Someone tried to grab him from behind, wrap their arms around his throat. John hunched his shoulders and tucked his chin to his chest, to keep them from choking him and then ducked to slip out of the unsuccessful headlock. He stomped on the hostile's foot, drove his elbow against their face and then lashed out with his leg to their side, breaking their ribs and pulping their organs.

Two left. The Spartan launched himself at the first, throwing his entire weight behind the first strike. His fist smashed into the angular turian visor. His left hand quickly followed, smashing into the hostile's throat.

" _Stop!"_

The alien staggered and reached for its throat. The Chief took his time to bring his feel down on the leg of his second opponent and grapple with it for a second, before shifting his weight and throwing them to the ground.

He knocked that enemy out with a quick stomp to its head and then shifted his focus to the first hostile again, throwing three quick punches to their turian waist.

The hostile fell to the wall and the Chief was about to finish it off with a hook to its face before he noticed the armour and the insignia stamped across its shoulders.

 _C-SEC._

John slowly lowered his arms, realizing what he had done. The trio of turians and the trio of humans lay crumpled on the ground, dead or unconscious. Looking at them gave him an odd feeling in his stomach. They had been a threat…they had attacked him.

But he had struck first.

The officers had breached this building because of the fighting that had been going on inside.

Why did they have to do that so close to him?

" _The Commander is on her way, Chief,"_ Cortana quietly said. " _I suggest we move before C-SEC sends more men."_

The Chief nodded, vaguely aware of fact that there were sirens going off in the distance. Would they have identified him as a hostile? Open fire first and ask questions later? Somewhere, a terrible mistake had been made in judgement, but he was unable to point the blame. Was it his? Or theirs?

"I didn't realize it," he softly told Cortana. Before anything happened, she needed to understand. He had to explain. "I didn't recognize them-"

" _I know, John. I know. But you really, really shouldn't be here when the officers arrive. We…we should link up with Shepard and get out of here."_

The Master Chief nodded and then moved out.

~0~

* * *

 **2 hours later**

 **Normandy SR-2**

Samara eyed the newscast with keen interest. Something was amiss. Thus far, reporters had declared that there had been an incident in the Embassies, but they had only released two details. The first had been disturbing enough; the Consort had been murdered.

The Justicar did not personally know the Consort, but she knew _of_ her. The death of an inspiring individual such as her was most regretful.

The second incident had been of a different nature of disturbing. One of the more prestigious gathering halls had been destroyed and a team of Special-Responses Citadel Security had been brutally assaulted within it, leaving more than half of them dead. The two survivors had been hospitalized with grievous injuries.

And in the middle of it all was the human super-soldier, the Master Chief. He was standing at rapt attention as Miss Lawson debriefed him, unflinching and inscrutable.

Mister Taylor stood in the back of the debriefing room, holding the trigger of his shotgun with clear intent; if the Master Chief moved even one step out of line, there would be violence.

Samara had no doubt about that, but she knew it would not be the kind of violence Mister Taylor expected.

"So she was dead when you got to her?" Asked Miranda.

"Yes," replied the Chief. His voice was heavy and, though Samara was certain that nobody else would notice it, laced with exhaustion and a hint of regret. However, even she doubted whether she truly interpreted it correctly. A life that lasted for a thousand years and still some people eluded her.

"And this assassin you talked about…what did they look like?"

"It was an asari. Pale skin, red eyes. She wore a cloak with a hood."

Miranda snorted. "Rather strange description of an asari, wouldn't you agree? I wonder why nobody else noticed her."

"Individuals like that don't just walk into the Embassies, soldier," said Jacob. "Only reason _you_ got past the sky blockades was because of Shepard."

The Chief remained silent. He had yet to remove his helmet, which Samara found odd.

"And the C-SEC Special Responses team that was dispatched, only recognized one hostile at the scene," continued Miranda. "And that was you, shortly before you proceeded to engage them in close quarters fighting. Do you know how many survived, Master Chief?"

The Master Chief remained silent still.

"Two. The rest was declared dead on scene from their injuries. They didn't even make it to the hospital, and were given a subsequent one-way ticket to the morgue-"

"I have clashed multiple times with security forces in the past," interrupted Samara. "And so has Cerberus. I know of your Illusive Man's long crusade for peace, and the deeds he has committed for them."

"The thing the Illusive Man were for the greater good," countered Miranda. "And they _always_ yielded clear and profitable outcomes."

"The deaths of the security officers are a regrettable outcome," said the Master Chief. "However, they breached the scene in the immediate aftermath of a drawn-out engagement. There was friendly fire on both sides."

"Regardless of who shot who, we still have a problem at our hand," said Jacob. "Cops look out for each other and now, one of the Commander's subordinates killed off four of their members."

"My actions should not reflect on Shepard's status with C-SEC."

Miranda scowled. "But they do. Now, one of the most powerful arms of the Citadel regards Shepard as responsible for the deaths of four of their best and brightest. It is flagrant-"

The doors to the Comm room soundlessly slid open and Samara felt the commanding presence of Jane Shepard flood the room, instantly silencing everyone inside. It was odd how a piece of civilian clothing like a black "hoodie" did nothing to diminish that effect. However, the Commander was visibly exhausted and she looked like the last thing she needed was an argument.

"Heeeey…" she slowly said as Jacob and the Chief saluted. "So I talked to Bailey. That was fun. He had mail to write to grieving wives, camera footage to check…I got good news and bad news."

Nobody said a thing.

Shepard raised her left eyebrow. "At this point, someone has to _pick_ which news I share first."

"I'll bite," Jacob slowly said. "Good news first?"

"I managed to convince Bailey that the Chief did not murder the Consort."

Miranda and Jacob exchanged a look. "And the bad news?"

The Commander flexed her spine and grunted. "They still want to charge you with either first-degree murder or manslaughter, Chief."

While the Master Chief did not in any way respond to that comment, Samara could feel the tension in the room rise.

"They can do that?" Said Jacob. "Charge an unaffiliated soldier with Citadel laws?"

"That's the power of C-SEC's love for their own, Jacob. You mess with one of them, you mess with all. As the Chief's commanding officer, they want me to bring him in."

The Master Chief slowly raised his head. "I don't want a diplomatic incident," he said. "However, you are not officially my commanding officer."

"That's that I told Bailey," Shepard said as she crossed her arms. "But he proceeded to give zero fucks. The man wants justice, and who can blame him?"

The Master Chief's matter-of-factness on this situation, compared to how any other human might have taken it, was oddly distracting. "After the Reapers have been dealt with, the Citadel can take file their demands with the UNSC."

Samara caught her Commander slightly lowering her head and took it as a signal of her patience running out. "Miranda, I think you have a report to write."

"Shepard-"

"And take Jacob too. You know him; he likes writing reports."

Mister Taylor was much sharper than Miranda. He smartly saluted and said, "Of course Commander. Come Miranda, I'll…hold your screen…"

And with that, the two Cerberus officers left the room, leaving Samara to contend with a frustrated Shepard and an inscrutable Master Chief. Still, she wondered why she was still here. After all, she had only visited this room to help keep the peace between an infuriated Miranda and an exasperated Jacob, in Shepard's absence.

Jane sighed and sat down on one of the chairs, not even bothering to swing her legs over the seat like she usually did. Whenever matters turned serious, so did she. "What happened down there, Chief? I know you wouldn't hurt Sha'ira, but how did you and those C-SEC officers butt heads like that?"

"They breached the room immediately after the assassin got away. With the wall exploding a few feet away from me, I expected more hostiles." The Master Chief didn't move an inch as he gave his reply, but Samara could see that he was not in the best of shapes. His armour, new and rarely-used, was badly-damaged and Samara could still feel the Biotic residue it emanated in the wake of a Biotic detonation.

"So you didn't recognize the obvious good guys?" Inquired Jane.

"Not until halfway through the conflict. It happened too fast."

Jane rested her head, on her hands, atop the table. "Talk about being too fast for your own good…unless, of course, it's not as much your reaction time as your reflexes and instincts."

"Commander?"

"I wouldn't react well to someone exploding a wall next to my head…but it _did_ happen. And nobody died. How long have you been fighting the Covenant, Chief?"

Samara thought that leap of logic somewhat strange. The Covenant? Who was that?

"I fail to see the relevance, Commander."

Shepard sighed again and buried her head in her arms. "Ain't no shrinks for veterans, Anderson always said…you're dismissed, Chief. Get yourself checked out in the medbay, switch suits and await further orders."

The super-soldier saluted. "Ma'am," he said, before taking his leave.

Samara watched him go, wondering how one Biotic had taken him on in a direct fight and won. Had his suit really made that much of a difference?

"He allowed EDI to pull the helmet footage from his helmet," Jane quietly said. "It helped build a case for him, clarifying that he didn't plan to murder those officers. The worst they can slap him with is manslaughter…fourfold."

"What of this assassin, Commander? The one who murdered the Consort?"

"A Biotic powerhouse alright. At least as powerful as you are, I suspect. I think his powered armour makes a real difference there."

At least, there was a small form of solace to be found in the knowledge that Samara might have defeated the Master Chief had he not worn that special armour. However, such lines of thinking were in the past and she merely regretted that he was unable to bring the culprit to justice. "Few Asari on the Citadel can match the potential of a Justicar, Shepard. I can contact the Order and inquire as to the presence of such an individual."

"Yes, you can. Still…I feel like something doesn't add up."

Samara didn't understand. "What do you mean?"

"Just a hunch…call it a feeling. C-SEC isn't known for its glorious timing...and the Chief is fast."

"How fast?"

"Very fast."

Samara nodded, seeing where her Commander wanted to go. "How much time did the chase take?"

"At least a minute from the initial contact, all the way towards the Amended Gathering."

"So how did C-SEC know where to strike?" Asked Samara

"And that is the question of the day. I feel like I'm missing something…something very important."

"You should rest, Commander. It will come to you on its own."

Jane mumbled something in return. "Guess so. I'll tell Joker to take get us out of here before they decide to ground the Normandy again and Anderson has to punch Udina in the face some more. We didn't want him to risk getting shot by C-SEC, you see?"

Samara blinked, tried to make sense of the Commander's rather special way of thinking, failed to do so and simply nodded. "I will be in the Observation post if you need me, Shepard."

"Thanks Sam…watch out for Garrus though. He is grumpy. Best let him calibrate."

Samara decided against pursuing that subject. "Anytime, Shepard."

~0~

* * *

 **08:34 Hours, December 23th, 2553 (UNSC Military Calendar)/**

 **Aboard UNSC Corvette _New Dawn_**

It was to the sound of screaming students that doctor David Ortyal woke, thus proving his hypothesis that he was not going to get rid of that particular burden anytime soon. He reached for his datapad, saw that he had overslept and sighed. "Great…Walker's going to kill me…"

And then, much to the doctor's growing frustration, he heard the increasingly-familiar voice of the Artificial Intelligence that had been tasked to be his shadow respond.

" _Good morning doctor Ortyal. I was just about to wake you."_

"Ooooor I might just kill myself." David glanced at the datapad again. "Wake me at half past eight in the morning?"

" _Depending on your perception of the meaning of the words "just about". You were not required on the bridge."_

"I disrespectfully disagree," replied the doctor. He whipped his legs out of bed, jumped to his feet and started getting dressed. "I'm _always_ needed. Things go very bad when I'm not there."

" _Your file mentioned something like that…"_

David was on her in an instant. "Rule number four: never mention my files. It sours our working relationship and you don't want to see me throw a tantrum."

The AI materialized her avatar from the ceiling-mounted projectors and she crossed her arms. "Rule number four?" She asked. "What are the other three?"

Ortyal finished suiting up, stuffed a scalpel down his boot for good measure and then ran a hair through his brown hair, noticing that it was getting a bit too long for regulations now. "You'll find out about them eventually. Now shoo; you're spoiling my morning."

The AI smirked and brushed a strand of burning hair from her face. "The remains of your morning, remember?"

"Oh, go analyse Halo or something."

"Already did that; I spent my morning properly."

And so, with most of his morning properly spoiled, David made his way to the Corvette's bridge. He hadn't bothered to familiarize himself with most of the crew, as that would only increase the risks of social interaction. There were a few people he was willing to risk a conversation with however, mostly because they were of the same intellectual level as him.

Whenever he could muster it, of course.

Still, Yin wouldn't leave him alone. He loathed her for it, but there was no avoiding that. Parangosky simply didn't trust him and she would be a fool if she did. She hadn't stayed top-dog at ONI precisely because of her paranoia.

David was confused by her. He wasn't sure what his opinion on her was and what his opinion on her ought to be. Perhaps that was why he didn't bother and just focused on what had to be done.

The bridge of the _New Dawn_ was a hive of activity as the various officers went about their daily business. They checked screens, dealt with transmissions and categorized other important things.

For a biologist like David Ortyal, there wasn't really a place here. So why the Captain kept insisting on seeing all staff members in the morning was somewhat beyond him. Still, it wasn't his position to complain, so on to the mess hall it was.

The staff of the _New Dawn_ was already sitting here, eating breakfast and drinking coffee…

He could use some coffee.

"Morning," said the engineer sitting closest to him.

David muttered something in return and made his way to the coffee machine. He spotted Captain Walker sitting at the table, reading something on his own datapad.

"So you decided to join us, Ortyal?" Said the Captain.

"Damn AI woke me up too late," he replied, before making himself a cup of the liquid wake-up.

He liked his coffee.

"Strange. Waking the crew is not one of Yin's responsibilities."

"Someone should have told her that. The thing won't leave me alone."

The Captain took a sip of his own coffee. "Well, she _was_ assigned to keep a close eye on you. You should have expected this before mouthing off in front of the Admiral, Ortyal."

"Yeah yeah…"

"So David, can you tell me what a biologist is doing aboard a reconnaissance vessel like this?" One of the other officers then asked him. One of the Marines attached to the Prowler as a security detail, most likely.

Ortyal found himself imagining how he would have liked to respond at this moment.

 _Listen here you little shit_! _That's none of your damn business_. _I'm going to be skating scientific circles around your greased behind, you bare-boned, sock-thumping sack of soup-chicken!_

He stuck to that thought and stayed polite however. No need to show off his extensive vocabular at this very moment. "If you can spare a moment, sure…even though I don't recall my presence actually concerning you… I was assigned to process any and all matters pertaining to biology. Good sir."

The man frowned. "That…doesn't remotely make sense."

He should have gone with the more difficult words.

Still, David shrugged. "Yup. To the uninitiated, it certainly appears that way." He tried to ignore any further thinly-veiled jabs at someone as young as him being aboard a vessel as important as this one, but it appeared they just couldn't let him drink his coffee in peace.

"The purpose of this Prowler is to chart new territory, search for our missing ships and perhaps verify the existence of an alien civilization different from the Covenant," said that same officer. "I fail to see why a scientific screw-up such as yourself is actually _required_ for an operation of such magnitude. Or is this your punishment division, Ortyal?"

The other people sitting at the table broke into laugher and David quietly took another sip of coffee. _This_ was why he hated dealing with people. "In a way, I suppose it is."

The Captain finished chuckling. "Parangosky has an eye for intelligent workers. She had her eyes on Halsey before the good doctor ever worked with ONI."

The officer snorted. "Halsey? With respect sir, that hardly places doctor Ortyal in a good light."

Again, the people in that frustratingly-tight mess hall started laughing, though there was an obvious distinction between the loud laughter of the military personnel and the quiet, unenthusiastic chuckles from the more scientifically-literate crewmembers.

Ortyal sighed and decided that this was where he drew his borders. "Ah yes, so amusing. Tell me, mister….?"

The officer faced him with an arrogant, if subtle smirk. " _Lieutenant_ Wallard, doctor."

David nodded. "Lieutenant then. Good. Let me ask you, what did you do during the Human-Covenant war?"

The man chuckled and looked at his colleagues. "What any man was supposed to do, doctor. Fighting the Covenant wherever they appeared. I survived ten engagements with the Covenant fleets, including the one at Earth. I have been fighting the Covenant for twenty years. Tell me doctor, what did _you_ do?"

Ortyal finished his coffee. "Funny how those ten engagements didn't really matter in the end, isn't it?"

It grew very quiet at the table.

"Excuse me?" Growled the officer.

"Well…the Covenant had thousands of warships at their disposal, easy. We destroy one ship, they replenish it with two more. I know of eight major naval victories before Earth and _Wallard_ doesn't ring any bells. So your CO must have jumped every time things got hairy. Not that he was _wrong_. There was no victory through strength to be found in space."

Wallard slowly stood up from his seat, glaring daggers at David. "What are you saying, _doctor_ Ortyal?"

David was unfazed. He looked the officer in his eyes and said, "Doctor Halsey made the Spartans, made their suits and _made. It. Work._ Catherine saved humanity, Lieutenant Wallard. What did you do, compared to her? No, I will stand idly by while you insult her."

"Do you agree with her methods then, doctor Ortyal?" Said Captain Walker. "Do you think she was justified?"

Again, so much silence at the table. Had David known that breaching a controversial subject would cause everyone to fall still, he would have done it before. "Was it moral? No. Neither was the bombing of Hiroshima or Nagasaki, but hey! It did help end the war!"

"Need I remind you that most, if not all of those pilots committed suicide in shame and guilt?" Said Wallard.

Ortyal leant back in his chair. "You know, I used to think the exact same thing when I was seven. As it turned out, it's an dishonest rumour with no solid basis. Only one of the pilots did commit suicide, in 1947. One of the others even declared they would do it again!" He paused. "Look it up."

One of the Marines scoffed. "Where did you pull _that_ trivia from?"

"I read a lot. I also know a lot; it's what makes me useful."

"Are you comparing Halsey to the aces of World War II?" Asked one of the engineers.

"Well, I'm actually comparing Halsey to the atom bomb…or her Spartans to the atom bomb…basically I'm saying that the position of head of Xenobiology about compensates for the rank of Lieutenant, _mister_ Wallard."

The Captain crossed his arms. "Hero or not, Parangosky and Halsey don't have a stable working relationship, doctor. I would advise you not to follow in Catherine's footsteps."

"I couldn't even if I wanted to. I would need larger shoes…"

The Captain stared at him for several long moments, then, he simply shrugged. "You're a smart man, Ortyal. Just don't expect any of us to pull your ass out of the fire when you sit down on the stove."

Ortyal gave him a thumb's-up.

Thankfully, things became loud again after that. The same engineer that David had seen at the beginning -the bald one with wrinkles- gave him an appreciative nod, before returning to his own business.

After that, doctor Ortyal picked up his things and left again. This ship would prove to be a very frustrating working environment if things continued like this.

" _Hello David. How was breakfast?"_

The doctor sighed and started unlocking the door to his office. _Just_ what he needed. "Don't call me that. You didn't earn the right."

" _Oh, I DO beg your pardon. Did you make any friends today, doctor?"_

Ortyal rolled with his eyes. Talking with a smart AI -especially the ones that were too smart for their own good- was like walking in a minefield. While not as difficult as talking with actual persons, it was still a haggle with their social-analysis software. Smart AI's could tell when people were speaking truthfully or not and that clashed with the rule that basically defined who he was. "I don't make friends."

" _I saw that."_

"Right. Cameras and the like. Is there any place where you _can't_ watch me do my thing?"

" _Hmm…the men's bathroom perhaps? Why, are you planning on doing something nasty during alone-time?"_

The door finally slid open and Ortyal wordlessly closed it behind him.

And then Yin materialized herself in his office again. "Don't be like that. Everybody needs a friend."

David reached for his datapad and booted up several files. "That's a dishonest generalization. _Not_ everybody needs friends, least of all me."

"I'll just refer to rule number four. May I ask why you hold Halsey in such a high esteem?"

Ortyal started reading his files. At the same time. "Wasn't your eavesdropping enough to answer that question?"

The AI crossed her holographic arms. "You and I both know that there is a lot more to that problem than you stated. Are you going to answer the question?"

"No."

Yin sighed. Or did the digital equivalent, because AI's weren't alive. They didn't have lungs to breathe with. "You are the most bitter man-child I have ever seen in my short career, did you know that?"

"Hmm…I suspected it."

"Good enough. Admiral Parangosky sent you a few files. I shall patch them through to your datapad."

David immediately saw an incoming data-stream, was in the middle of wondering how the crafty little thing had bypassed his security password, remembered that his password was password and vowed to add a few numbers to said password. "Oh goodie. Wait, this is just-"

"Yeah, she basically repeated the objective from the previous debriefing."

Ortyal could see that. Objective number one: verify the presence of an alien civilization that did not belong to the Covenant. Fair enough.

The secondary objectives were awfully specific. "If possible, locate the Master Chief? That'd be goal of the century, right there. The man could be anywhere. Locate the _UNSC Wayfarer_? Did they pinpoint its position already?"

"They did, but the signal was vague at best. We have a lot of space to explore."

"Right…tertiary objective"

"Just read the file…"

It was a complete analysis of the body of a Sangheili. Flow charts, slideshows, even tissue samples and their cellular makeup. And at the bottom…"The genomic sequence of a Sangheili?"

The AI smirked. "Yup. The Office worked hard to get that baby unfolded. Should be enough to keep you busy, right?"

Doctor Ortyal didn't like the tone of eagerness that crept into the AI's voice. "What does she want me to do with this?"

"That should be obvious enough, should it not? Find a weakness and exploit it. A weapon, a virus, bacteria, whatever. Build something that can kill a Sangheili when exposed. Should be easy enough, right? When we get the Jiralhanae genome, we'll be set."

David turned to look at the AI. Her smile had something… _vicious_ to it. It made him feel very uneasy. "A biological weapon based on the genome of an Elite? I thought we had a truce?"

"Oh, we do. But it never hurts to be prepared, right?"

It was that moment that David remembered that the Cortana-model had been based on Halsey, making that AI the smartest and craftiest little hacker the UNSC could produce. "Yin, whose brain were you built from?"

The AI smirked, but it was devoid of friendliness. It looked downright cruel. "I do not believe you earned the _right_ to ask me that question, doctor Ortyal."

"Are you going to answer me?"

"No."


	15. Chapter 15: The Sergeant

_So after taking a hiatus of more than a month, rummaging around Spacebattles until I had improved my writing, I'm finally back. With a chapter that basically everybody has been looking forward to since the man himself first appeared._

 _Rest of AN at the end of the chapter._

 _~0~_

* * *

 **Mil System**

 **Chalkhos**

 **Athame hospital**

"We cannot afford such a deal!"

"That is…unfortunate, to say the least. If you're not willing…"

"We are! We are willing! But I've got twenty-two patients who _need_ their medication and we're barely getting around as it is! We're understaffed, undersupplied and-"

The turian silenced her with that annoying human posturing gesture. The one that the mothers often did with their young to reassure and silence them. "Zut…the Captain would hate to hear that. You know who won't hate to hear it? The Lonely Angels. They've got about everything except for medical supplies. So you better think _long_ and _hard_ before you give me your reply. Where is the rest of the money?"

Mirere Vani cast the turian mercenary a pleading look. "I _beg_ of you, this is all we have!" She said, struggling to keep her voice from breaking. "There are wounded here, some of them even children! You can't _do_ this!"

The turian reached out and caressed her cheek. His touch was soft, but his voice was menacingas he told her that he would discuss this with the Captain he kept referencing to.

And then, without even bothering to wait for her to reply, the bastard turned around and left.

Mirere's posture broke the second he was out of sight, and the tears she had been biting back throughout the entire conversation rolled over her flushed cheeks.

That merciless fucking -Goddess, she had to get out of here. Get her things, gather her stuff and leave.

Fuck this world, fuck these gangs. She had a life she wanted to live and she wasn't going to get killed by a bunch of sociopathic monsters whose ego was only matched by their greed.

The Maiden stopped in the hallway, right next to the doorway that led to Abigail's room. The girl was sleeping on her ragged bed, still wearing her clothes. Dark rings surrounded her eyes and her auburn hair was a mess.

Mirere imagined that, had she had fur on the top of her hair like that, it would have been a mess too. They were all regularly clocking in around sixteen hours per day. The last night she had grabbed more than seven hours of sleep had been…what, a week or two back? More?

She thought about waking the human and breaking the news to her. That the Blue Suns had just bent them over and fucked them, because they were breaking the deal. And that meant they would all be dead by the end of the week.

That, or she could just sneak away. Grab the aircar, get to the Yards and sneak aboard the first freighter off-planet. It wasn't like she hadn't done her part; she practically ran this place.

But that was just it. And be it because of her pride or some annoying, suicidal sense of justice, she didn't want to just throw this place to the varren.

That, and her people deserved the chance to escape with her. After all, she had taken them in to offer them protection. Payment had ran out long ago, but here, they still had a roof over their heads and food that wouldn't leave them emptying their bowels every few minutes.

"Ab…hey, ab."

Years of living on the street had turned the human into a very light sleeper, and she woke almost immediately.

"Miri? What's wrong?"

"I'm visiting Jorg after this…the guy from the Blue Suns just left."

At that, Abigail sat up straighter. "And?"

Mirere opened her mouth to speak, but she immediately felt the tears stinging in her eyes again. "We uhm…they're stopping."

" _Stopping?"_

"Quiet!" Hissed the Maiden. "Patients are sleeping, remember?" Focusing on the people who needed their sleep made it easier for her to keep a straight face, oddly enough. "Yes, stopping. They're pulling their protection."

"Christ, Miri, we need to steady Brehem for moving! A-And Hannah, she needs a new brace. Can your human already walk?"

"Abigail," Mirere slowly said. "I don't think we can move all twenty-two patients."

The girl swung her legs out of bed and shot her a puzzled look. "So what, we stay here? We…we…" comprehension dawned on her face, and that puzzled look turned into something very ugly. "We're not leaving."

"Ab…"

"No! There are more than twenty people in this hospital depending on us! We are not going to abandon them!"

"What else do you want to do!" Mirere sharply said . "They're going to give our location to the Angels, Abigail! You of all people should know what that means!"

The human turned as pale as the Thessian moon when she heard that, but her brave front did not break. "That's…that's precisely why! All of your work, all the things you've done to get them here, it would be flushed down the fucking toilet! And you'd be right back where you started."

Yeah, after that stab at Abigail's past, Mirere supposed she had set herself up for comment like that. "You're right. Fine, you're right damnit. I'll get Jorg up to speed. First thing in the morning, we're fortifying this place. And you're helping too!"

"I'm pretty sure Warla is willing to help, too. His arm is almost healed…"

Mirere sighed and left the human alone with her thoughts. Playing hero, that was sure to help. Leave the Eclipse, make amends on some ass-end of a planet, that was the way to go!

This wasn't how he had planned on spending her Maidenhood. Why was it so completely impossible for a girl like her to find something _besides_ either dying or killing people? Had her mother pissed on a statue of the Goddess or something?

The broody batarian was working in the little attic, as always. At this point, she would be surprised if she found him somewhere else than that impromptu workshop of his.

Spare parts were scattered around the room. Weapon parts, pieces of steel, replacement equipment for the aircar, just about everything that had once been scattered around the hospital could now be found in his workshop.

"Evening," she said, greeting the batarian worker.

Jorg glanced over his shoulder, recognized her and then silently went back to his work. It looked like he had some sort of gun lying on his workbench, with pieces sticking out of it. A shotgun, if the boxy frame was anything to go by.

"We've got trouble."

He nodded once, signaling that he was listening to her. His skin had a darker complexion than most of his kind, perhaps because he had spent so many years working under the sun. Still, it was because of him that this place actually worked.

And that she had a working gun.

"I just finished talking to the Blue Suns. They're not going to protect us anymore."

Jorg stopped tinkering with the shotgun.

"Even worse, they'll be relaying our location to that Lonely Angel gang I told you about. Between you, me and Abigail, we've got about zero chance at stopping them."

The batarian didn't move a muscle. He was still listening.

Mirere sighed and looked away, glancing at a piece of metal lying at the ground. "So nobody is going to blame you if you leave. You want to pack your stuff and go, I won't stop you."

Jorg looked over his shoulder again, his four dark, black eyes locking with hers. After a few moments of what hopefully more than a quick staring contest, he went back to tinkering with his shotgun.

Silently, Mirere left his office again. She assumed that meant he would be staying.

At least they had a chance. Jorg didn't talk a lot, but she knew enough about his background to understand that he had spent a _very_ long time fighting. Who he had been fighting and why didn't matter; he could hold a gun and use it better than anyone here, and he had his own reasons for wanting the Blue Suns dead.

Although, Mirere wished she knew a little bit more about those reasons.

Still, it looked like everybody was dead set on staying in this hole and making it work. And if the human and the batarian were going to stay, how could an asari not?

Yeah right, as if that was the way it worked.

~0~

* * *

 **36 hours later**

The sun was already starting to set by the time Abigail Norman had finished her rounds. She had distributed the medication, assisted the more-crippled patients of Athame hospital in their daily exercise and taken stock of their remaining, if dwindling supplies.

And then it had been time for lunch, which had existed out of a cup of water and a protein bar. After that, she had helped sweet Jorg with boarding up the windows and gathering the pieces of tech that she, as a nurse, would not be laying her hands on

Well…she wasn't technically a nurse. She had been privately studying to be one, before…before things had changed.

Her parents, dead. Her house, burned to the ground. The loss of her entire future had been the least painful thing to happen to her that day.

And now they were going to come again. The same people who had taken everything from her when she had been a child.

But she wasn't going to be afraid. Not again. This time, she would face what would be coming. In the best case scenario, she would be staying here for the rest of her life. In the worst case scenario, she would be joining her family again.

Although the words "best" and "worst" were arbitrary at best. Right now, both were equally as likely to happen and neither of them seemed like fun ways to end up.

What would end up happening didn't matter in the long run, and it would only be distracting her from what she needed to be doing. After all, a nurse needed to think of the patients first. Everything else would come later.

Abigail checked the board again. It was time to check up on mister Temple, and see if his recovery would continue to baffle normal science.

His name wasn't actually mister Temple, of course. But they had found him near the Prothean Temple and…well, she was nineteen, not creative. Mirere had asked her to give the man a name and Temple seemed like as good a name as any.

Even though the man didn't really respond to the name. Apparently, he didn't respond to anything. He ate his rations and drank his water, but other than that he might as well have been mute.

Abigail entered his room and started her daily schedule. She withered under his hard gaze, gently asked him how he felt and tried not to feel disappointed when he ignored her. She checked his wounds, gave him his plate of rations, replenished his water and-

A gunshot rang out right outside, quickly followed by another. And another.

Abigail froze, her fingers tightly clutching the glass of water. By the time she had gotten to the doorway and looked outside, peering down the dark hallway, another four had rang out.

She spotted people at the other end of the hallway. A turian, it looked like, and an asari. They were armored and armed.

The glass of water shattered on the ground. She felt the gunshots more than she heard them. Dull, rapid impacts against her chest, Her vision blurred and she groped to feel the wound. Her hands came away sticky with blood.

Vaguely, she realized she had been shot full in her chest. She slid down against the wall and sank to the ground It didn't hurt, not as much as it should have. But she felt disoriented, confused.

The asari walked up to her. She was clad in dark-gray robes, with a sickly-pale skin. "Next room," she told the turian.

The turian raised his pistol and calmly strode towards mister Temple's room, where the man lay helpless in his bed. He had been doing so well…healing so good…

The asari didn't bother finishing her off. "So _here_ you were hiding all the medicine," she spoke in accent that Abigail hadn't heard before. "Rest assured, we will make good use out of it.:

Only then did she aim her pistol at Abigail's head. But she didn't fire.

More gunshots rang out, but none of them were aimed at her.

"Stay low…"

Through her narrowed vision, the girl saw that the turian was staggering backwards out of the room. He jerked and pulled as someone unloaded shot after shot into his chest, neck and head, until he collapsed into a pool of his own blood.

"…like I said so."

Abigail heard the asari shout the gun discharge again. Her vision blurred and a strange buzzing sound echoed through her mind, slowly drowning out all other noises. Her vision flickered for a few moments.

When she next saw again, the asari was struggling to get back to her feet. She saw the man gesture at the asari, who then burst into flames and started screaming.

"Catch a light" the man barked.

Then the blurriness in her eyes turned worse, and everything went black.

~0~

* * *

There were very few things that could have worsened the mood of Avery Junior Johnson as he waited to finally fall into the sweet embrace of death, but the little doctor-playing girl trying to chat him up each time she came by had to count as one.

She said something to him something as she walked around the room, doing her thing.

Avery couldn't muster the energy to sigh, and instead closed his eyes again. He wanted nothing more than to simply drift off and pour over the long, battle-filled life he had lived and he'd be damned if some skinny little girl would stop him from doing that. This place had stopped being funny the second he'd realized that this _wasn't_ some sort of dying dream.

For the sake of his sanity, Johnson let his mind drift to what had been his last few moments in life. The Portal, the Ark, the Spark.

And Miranda.

Moments before activating the Halo Array, Truth had already destroyed Avery's world. Watching the Chief destroy that bastard's world in return hadn't helped one bit. Miranda was dead and he had lived.

Being alive right now felt more like insult to injury. Like kicking him while he was down.

But who had plucked him away from that platform? That question had been bothering him every moment of the past few days. It must have been some sort of teleport. Hell, he was stuck on some ass-end of a planet with new alien bastards around him.

Alien bastards that were easy on the eye, but alien bastards nonetheless.

The girl placed a plate with food on his improvised table.

Avery grunted. He wasn't hungry.

The girl watched him for a few more seconds, then went about her business again, going for the glass of water next.

Something was different this time. Normally, they only gave him a spoon to eat with. This time, they had given him a knife.

Before the gal could see it, Avery snatched the blade from his plate and stuffed it into his pants. They had removed portions of his Marine BDU, but not all of it. Everything covering his lower body was still a hundred percent green.

The girl finished pouring him his glass of water.

Then, something outside banged. A really loud bang, not sounding unlike someone firing a gun.

She gasped and ran outside.

 _Trouble_.

The wounded Sergeant Major slowly reached for his knife and grabbed it tightly. More of those strange-ass gunshots rang out, soon followed by the sound of breaking glass.

 _Damn._

Then, another alien bastard entered his room. _His_ room. It was roughly man-shaped, but had a strange, angular face with mandibles covering its mouth.

Not a whole lot of pretty and definitely a bad guy.

Avery watched the bastard approach him through squinted eyes. No need showing off how awake he was yet. Better to preserve the element of surprise.

The alien grabbed one of the pillows lying on the spare bed -a ragged, torn one- and then pushed it against Avery's face.

Johnson didn't take kindly to that. He shoved the knife roughly into the alien's cake-hole and pulled the dirty pillow off with his free hand. Before the bastard could even recover from the weapon lodged into its face, Johnson grabbed its gun, snatched the piece out of its hand with such force that he broke the alien's fingers and took aim.

He instinctively squeezed the trigger and noticed the distinct lack of bang. More gently, he rubbed his finger across the strange trigger until the weapon finally went off.

And again.

And again.

And again.

Which company designed their guns so that they had to be pleased like a woman in order to function?

The alien staggered backwards with each shot that impacted on his body, but he didn't die. There wasn't even any blood. Some shimmering barrier absorbed the shots.

Shields. Well, he knew exactly how to deal with that.

Johnson fired the gun until the shield popped and the alien died. By that time, the thing was standing with his back against the hallway opposite of the room, clutching one of his many wounds.

"Stay low like I said so," Johnson barked, already raising the gun at his next target. He had seen the girl lying on the ground and the alien standing next to her, armed with a different sort of gun.

Pretty-faced alien bastard or not, humans had been shot and aliens were present. That was all a Sergeant Major needed to start kicking ass.

He was faster on the trigger than the alien was. He shot the gun in her hands three times before his own gun suddenly decided that it was tired of working properly. It shrieked with some sort of alarm and hot air hissed out from several openings.

A puzzled Johnson looked at the worthless piece of ordnance. It had overheated?

The alien chuckled smugly and thrust her hand at him, glowing with blue light.

"Piece of crap-"

Avery suddenly found himself flung backwards into the room, roughly colliding with the bed. His chest screamed in protest, as did his masculinity, as did his common sense.

The female had telekinetically flung him through the air. Magic. Goddamn magic.

But Avery didn't need fancy-schmancy colors to be magic as well. He quickly searched the room for anything he could use as a weapon, saw the purple-skinned alien babe enter the room and rapidly backed away.

The alien spoke to him, but he didn't understand a single word. A faint, blue glow enveloped her again and Johnson, knowing that he was about to be smacked around with more magic, started throwing things at her face. An empty can, a plate, a canister filled with some sort of liquid.

It didn't matter; her body armor shrugged them off like he was flinging wet tissue paper and the woman grinned as she came closer, raising a threatening fist that glowed like a blue Christmas tree.

Avery felt strangely calm as he lifted another glass canister and shot a quick glance at its contents. A clear liquid again, but the flavor text printed on the side was written in letters.

His letters. The words didn't make a lot of sense, but the letters looked very similar to English.

The image was pretty clear, too. A drawing of someone with noodles sticking out of their hair, engulfed with fire.

Johnson shrugged and let her fly. The glass projectile sailed straight and true and smashed into the alien's pretty face, drenching her with the strange substance and covering her face with pieces of glass.

Her smug smile turned into an expression not much unlike his grandmother when she was about to give him a grandma-beatdown. She threw herself at him-

Only for Avery to lash out with his legs and kick her away. She slammed into the bedframe as well and struggled to get back to her feet.

Johnson, fully dedicated to showing the alien how a proper beatdown worked, was on in her a heartbeat. He grabbed her by the back of those strange head-tentacles, which felt remarkably sturdy underneath his grip.

All the better. He dragged her away from the bed, punching her with his free hand as he did. His blows were mostly absorbed by her body armor, but they did wind her, which was all he needed. Even as she cried out and enveloped her body with more magic light, Johnson slammed his fist against her exposed throat.

The woman coughed and wheezed and the aura seemed to die out somewhat.

"You don't muck with this Farine," spat Johnson. He then threw the alien out of his room. _His_ damn room.

She woman landed about right on top of her ugly-faced companion. She struggled to get back to her feet however, glaring at Avery with an expression that he had come to associate with Brutes catching the smell of raw meat.

Avery searched through his pockets, found a lone cigar and stuffed it into the corner of his mouth. "Just a moment," he grunted, quickly searching his other pockets for the one piece of gear no Marine could do without.

His fingers dug into the sturdy frame of his lighter and he snatched it from his pocket. He just needed to test it.

The alien babe, still drenched in that medicine he had chucked at her, screamed something at him. The Sergeant Major didn't particularly care for that as he flicked the lighter on and lobbed it at her, cigar-lighting-flame first.

The alien lit up like _she_ was made out of cigar. She screamed, she thrashed, she _burned_.

"Catch a light," Johnson told her. He kicked her against her head and she fell to the ground again, still screaming. He knelt down next to her writhing form and held his cigar up, carefully lighting it above her body. "Never mind…I'll do it myself."

Content that the alien bad guys were sufficiently dead and roasted by his signature one-liners, the Marine rose to his feet and looked at the human girl.

She had been shot, several times in the chest. She was still alive, but barely so. She was bleeding out fast.

Avery quickly went back into the room and searched for medical supplies that he hadn't repurposed as improvised projectiles. He found some bandages, a stick and viscous gel.

He grunted with disapproval at the jelly and hurried to apply the bandages to the girl's chest. It wasn't much, but it would keep her from bleeding to death.

Alright, so his life wasn't completely over now. There were still humans in danger and alien bastards to shoot. Apparently, the call knew where he lived.

Johnson searched his fallen opponents for weapons, found a wicked-looking knife on the ugly one and something that looked like a grenade on the now-also-ugly one.

Form and function. Even when he had been warped from the Ark to what was starting to look like some sort of weird space-time wedgie, weapons still stayed the same. Thankfully, the Lord didn't always work in mysterious ways.

Avery hauled the wounded girl over his shoulders, gently so. He recalled having been helped by the same such alien as the one he had toasted. But she had had a different face. So he was being nursed in a hospital that saw aliens and humans working together? Hot aliens like these hadn't been working with the Covenant, unless the Covvies had deliberately kept them from the front lines for relaxing purposes.

His head was still somewhat fuzzy. Thinking too much on the why's and where's would get him killed. No, his objective was simple. Get help for the girl, then get out. The UNSC probably needed him.

Easier said than done. The hospital was crawling with bad guys, and he was mostly out of gun. He avoided a group of the strange feminine-looking aliens and ducked into a room with the wounded human.

The room liked like the sort you would find at an abandoned hospital of a glassed world. That someone had kept it functional was nothing short of a miracle.

Someone had walked into the room and taken a gun to the patients. Humans, aliens, it didn't matter. They each had a pillow stuffed against their face, with a single entrance hole in its midst. Classic cleansing tactic, often employed by Insurrectionists whenever they struck with the element of surprise.

Avery shook his head and gently placed the girl down on the floor. They wouldn't bother checking a room they had already swept.

Whatever sort of hospital this was, it wasn't the type that had professional medication. No Biofoam, no morphine, nothing of that sort.

Damnit.

The Sergeant Major had no choice but to push on. He had one problem though; alien bastards were heading his way.

Good. He needed a better gun.

He brandished the knife he had taken from his earlier encounter and waited at the corner of the door, right next to the opening. There were two of them, both those weird tentacle-heads. They had their rifles raised and were slowly edging through the hallway, making their way towards him.

Avery would have liked to keep this quiet, but he didn't know if he would be able to manage. They seemed alert enough to know that something was up.

He grunted and reached for his chest. The wound still hurt. Damn lightbulb.

It took the two a few moments to reach the room. They peaked inside, failed to spot the Marine hiding away right underneath their noses and moved on.

At least, one of them did. The second they turned their backs, Johnson shot from the shadows and wrapped his hand around the mouth of the first alien, preventing her from crying out as he plunged the large knife into her throat. He pushed her head forwards just the slightest bit, assumed that her arteries would then bundle up just like their human equivalent would do and carved through them in one swift movement.

The alien tensed up and squirmed, but her struggles quickly stopped.

Warm blood dripped from Avery's hand as he dropped her body to the ground.

The other alien stopped and asked something in a language that Johnson didn't recognize. Her dead comrade didn't answer her, and when she turned around to look, she was only met with a high-velocity Johnson boot.

He dumped their bodies into the little room and took their guns. Rifles, sighted. Different ergonomics than normal rifles, without an apparent magazine.

Those things sure as hell didn't fire plasma. What kind of guns did these aliens use? Were they part of the Covenant?

Whatever they fired, it proved to be a lot more powerful than their pistols. Johnson rounded the corner, saw a pair of the strange, ugly-faced aliens and gave them a proper UNSC welcome.

The welcome splattered blood and bits of brain across the wall, but Johnson was good to go.

But the girl he was trying to get out of this place wasn't, and it only took one stray bullet to end her. Trying to get her medical attention took too long. There had to be a better way…

As the Sergeant Major tore his way through the hospital, killing every alien combatant he encountered, he could hear the distinct noise of firefights somewhere else in the building. And it wasn't that big a hospital, either.

Someone else was giving these bastards a hell of a fight. A man -or woman- to his heart, no doubt.

Maybe they would have some good medicine.

With that in his mind, Johnson followed the sounds of gunfire. He was led to a wing in the upper corner of the hospital, into a long hallway with boarded-up windows. Several of them had been smashed, several were covered in blood.

Three bodies lay in the ground. One of the pretty-faces, one of the ugly-faces and a third one he didn't recognize. Big eyes, strange horns-like things on the top of the head. Almost like a toad.

But he hadn't wasted them, so whoever had, was probably still around.

The end of the hallway led to two rooms, one to the left and one to the right. As Johnson poked his head around the corner, someone immediately opened fire on him. He swore as he pulled his head back and took cover.

Shouts came from the room to his left. Someone had barricaded themselves inside, and Avery had a hunch that it was the same someone who had tried to barricade the windows on this floor. If he was a particularly-lucky Marine, it might even be a friendly.

With his ass glued to the wall as cover, Johnson called, "You one of the patients?"

No response.

"Chill out, I'm not here to fight."

Still no response. Did they even speak his language?

Johnson risked peeking out of his cover again, and was pleasantly surprised when they didn't try to shoot it off. He still pulled back before they changed their minds, and waited a few moments.

He held his gun out of cover, before quickly pulling it back.

No gunfire.

At least _someone_ wasn't keen on blowing him away today.

Very carefully, Avery stepped out of his cover. He took in the situation in a heartbeat; four people sitting in a room that they had tried to block off with the beds. One four-eyed alien kept a gun trained at him, while three other aliens lay in the back of the room. Avery could see them through the holes in the makeshift barricade.

Two humans, one of the female aliens. All of them wounded.

The four-eyed alien lowered his gun when he saw Johnson approach, but he didn't keep his fingers off the trigger. Smart man.

"Look, I got wounded. She needs medical attention ASAP. Got any supplies in here?"

The alien didn't reply. He pulled away one of the beds to allow the Marine to get inside of their little room, but never took his two sets of dark eyes off of him.

The wounded alien lying on the ground glanced at the girl on the Sergeant's shoulders. She muttered a word that he didn't understand, then winced with the effort.

Johnson took a whiff of his cigar and scowled. She didn't look too good. "Medical attention," he repeated, frustrated with the lack of response. "Medicine, help, whatever."

The alien nodded, then gestured at the cabinet standing in the corner. It too was riddled with bullet holes.

It had to do. Avery gently placed the human girl down on the ground and started rummaging around the cabinet, holding his rifle in one hand.

He found alien things, more alien things and then a surprise in the form of an alien thing.

How the hell was he supposed to read that crap?

Johnson grabbed one of the things and held it out to the woman on the floor. She looked a lot like the doctor that had been visiting him all the time, before the human girl had taken over. The hag had plucked him from death's doorstep, right when he had been content to go out with his bang.

But he was here now, and she needed help.

"What do I use?" He asked.

She replied in alien tongue.

The Sergeant shook his head. "Can't understand you."

She closed her eyes and sighed. It looked like she had been nailed hard; there were several holes in her coat, surrounded by blotches of purple blood.

The four-eyed alien held out his rifle towards Johnson, who looked at it with suspicion. He raised his own gun. "I got my own," he told the alien, not sure how much of his language they were able to understand.

How were they able to understand any of his language at all?

The alien glanced at his gun, then made a sharp gesture with his head towards the entrance of the room. He then stomped over towards the wounded girl.

Avery watched him for a few moments to make sure nothing bad would come out of that, then stepped towards their barricade. It was sloppy and weak; no way that would withstand any gunfire.

The Sergeant chewed on his cigar as he thought about his next options. He wanted to get out of this place and rendezvous with the UNSC. They had probably given the Master Chief a big welcome-back party and now that his chances at dying peacefully had been blown out the window, he wanted in on that. There had to be enough demand for soldiers and those hula-hoop-shaped son-of-a-bitch machines were still around.

Well, first he had to survive these people trying to kill him. For several long moments, he stayed in position, keeping the hallway clear while the alien behind him tried to fix the girl up.

One of the uglies rounded the corner, weapon raised, but Johnson was much faster on the draw. He downed the SOB with a burst of fire aimed at its chest.

How the hell would he know when his gun would throw another hissyfit? He had dumped the pistol and taken two of the rifles, but he didn't like to swap guns in the middle of a firefight.

He heard shouts coming from the hallway, and knew that things were about to get hot. "Bad guys incoming!" He told the group whose asses he was trying to keep safe.

As if eager to prove his point, several aliens whirled around the corner and opened fire. Enough bullets slammed into the door-frame for these aliens to spell their names, but the Sergeant Major forced himself to calmly line up his own shots.

He fingered the trigger and caught one of the aliens in the face with a sustained burst of fire. It went down, Avery's score went up and the fire lessened.

The four-eyed alien had immediately dragged the girl to safety when the fun started, and by the time Johnson had racked up his second kill, it too joined him at the doorframe.

"You got a way out of this place?" Johnson shouted above the thundering of their guns.

The alien shook its head.

The alien at the end of the hallway ran into a problem after a few more shots, as he suddenly shot a look at his gun and reached for his ass.

"Ain't that just lovely…" Johnson wanted to make good use of the brief lull in the firefight and nail the bastard in the mouth, when he discovered that his gun told him he could go screw himself. The damn thing didn't work.

"Sonofabitch!" Cried the Sergeant Major. "Charge!"

He jumped from his cover and raced down the hallway, straight towards the ugly-faced alien as it raised its gun again.

Its eyes widened in surprise as a hundred percent grade-A Marine slammed into him. They crashed to the ground and Johnson had about enough time to stick his knife in the bastard's face before he looked up and saw that his stunt had taken him straight around the corner, where three more aliens were waiting for him.

"Excuse me while I whip this out," barked the Sergeant. He grabbed the little grenade-thing in his pocket, wished upon Super-MAC that it was actually a grenade-thing and squeezed the only button that could be squeezed.

The thing lit up like his cigar and he quickly tossed it between the aliens. "Here, catch!"

They scrambled for cover, but apparently they hadn't expected a human half clad in Marine gear and half clad in a hospital gown to crash their party like that, because they didn't even bother shooting him.

Johnson quickly scurried back around the corner and the grenade went off not with a bang, but with a loud pop and a sizzle.

Still, the screams of pain were music to his ears. He heard several dull thuds as the bodies went everywhere, followed by a serene silence only broken by the occasional groans and cries of pain.

He grabbed the rifle he had slung around his back after his encounter with the two space babes and hosed the survivors with gunfire until they didn't get back up again.

"School's over," he called. "Dismissed."

He double-checked to make sure the bastards hadn't made it into the other room, then kept watch for more. The bodies glowed with a faint blue aura, somewhat like the magic those aliens had used.

Avery was hesitant about calling it magic. Space physics, maybe. Heck, it might even be some fancy new weapon system.

If so, it wasn't very effective. Shooting seemed a hell of a lot more effective to him.

The four-eyed alien rapidly approached him. It occurred to the Sergeant Major that he hadn't seen its kind among the attackers. Was he getting himself into some sort of nasty species thing?

The alien rounded the corner and glared at the bodies, before shooting a look at Johnson.

"Yes, I know I'm pretty," Johnson told him. "But we gotta keep moving. This place ain't gonna last long!"

The alien woman who had been tending to him during the first few days slowly limped towards them, clutching her stomach as she did. She talked to the four-eyes, who shrugged.

Then she faced him. Again, she talked to him, but she might as well have been talking to a Jackal for all the good it did.

"Ma'am, I can't understand a damn word you're saying," said the Sergeant Major.

The woman frowned.

Johnson took the cue to take another whiff of his cigar, savoring the sweet taste. After days of eating hospital grub, it was a very welcome change of pace. "But maybe you can explain the day I'm having. Gimme a little nod if you can understand me."

Much to his frustration, the alien slowly nodded.

Alright. Aliens who understood him. Either they were part of a really secret species exchange program, or there was some nasty business going on. He didn't bother trying to come up with an explanation. If he could run around in the snow on a massive outer-galaxy construct that pooped out Halos like a chicken laying eggs, he could buy aliens speaking his tongue. For now.

"Good. This Sergeant Major is gonna grab his gun, run around the hospital and kill any inhuman son-of-a-bitch dumb enough to get between him and the exit. You wanna live, you come with me."

He chewed on his cigar as the woman whispered a few words to four-eyes, who took a step backwards.

Hah. Already basking in the glory of Sergeant Major Avery Johnson.

~0~

"He's insane," Mirere weakly muttered. "Completely crazy."

Jorg 's expression didn't change one bit as he wisely took a step backwards.

~0~

Johnson peeked down the hallway again, saw that the bits and pieces hadn't gone anywhere and confirmed that they could still babble in privacy. "Now buckle up miss, 'cause you're all coming with me. Get the wounded."

She glanced over her shoulder at the three wounded humans. Then, she shook her head.

Johnson jabbed at her with his cigar, but made sure he didn't get any ash on her uniform. "Listen here lady. You had to drag my ass here, now I'm gonna drag yours with me as well. These ugly sonsofbitches killed all your patients and messed up your hospital. Consider me their party-crasher. Is there any way we can leave here that doesn't involve marching through thousands of bullets?"

It took the alien lady a few moments to regain her composure, after which she gestured to a place underneath their feet.

"Terrific. We're gonna dig a mighty big hole? Where'd you get your medical license?"

She rolled with her eyes and pointed to the floor again. She gestured down the hallway, made a little walking movement with her fingers and pointed again.

Walking down the hallway and climbing down. Good enough for him.

One problem: making their way down to the lower sections of the hospital was a problem, even for him. He and four-eyes both had to carry one of the unconscious humans, while the lady supported the girl. It made for slow progress.

Lucky for them, four-eyes had shown Avery how to reload the smaller handguns. It involved jamming some red battery into the backside.

A hell of a lot easier to do than reloading a normal gun. The problem was that these guns seemed to lack the punch of the good old fashioned UNSC ordnance, and that made performing his kills difficult.

"Bip, bap, bam!" Shouted Johnson. He cheated by adding a second bam and the ugly bastard standing guard at the bottom of the stairs slumped to the ground.

Awkward, but not impossible.

Whatever these guns fired, it still made them loud. So by the time they had advanced down the stairs, ugly's little buddies came running.

Avery placed his own patient down against a nearby wall, unslung his rifle and hosed the aliens with bullets. "Dance, sucker!"

At that point, one of the space babes made herself glow like a chemstick again and slapped him in the face with a projectile that he had been sluggish to dodge. It knocked him straight on his can, roughly six meters away from his takeoff point.

Avery grunted loudly as the impact knocked all the air from his lungs. Luckily, air was for baby Marines who didn't know how to deal with blunt force trauma. He rapidly pulled the handgun out of his pants and opened fire.

The alien girl was forced to take cover.

Johnson took a deep breath and crawled back to his feet. "Come out where I can see you!"

She didn't as much as peek from her cover as four-eyes opened up on her position as well. She was pinned down, but for how long?

The Sergeant Major wasn't willing to put it to the test. He spotted an alternative route and got moving. He didn't know why the alien was so willing to wait it out, but he guessed it was so her buddies could reach them and catch them in an unholy crossfire.

Seeing as he had left more than a dozen of them lying in a pool of their own blood, they were probably motivated enough.

Johnson climbed over a piece of rubble, briefly took the time to wonder what sort of hospital had a basement like this, and popped up near the alien woman's flank.

"How you doin'?" He asked, before blowing her away.

That looked like their last unit for now. The basement was clear, and Johnson scanned his surroundings with his rifle. Nothing was moving. "We're clear."

Four-eyes helped carry the wounded into the center of the room, while the lady hobbled towards something that looked like a blue brick with fins. She fumbled with her right wrist, which suddenly erupted into a strange, orange glow.

Avery frowned while the doctor typed on the orange light like it was a display. Some sort of holographic tool? Did she have a robot arm or something?

The doctor looked over her shoulder, caught him staring and then gestured at the wounded, before nodding at the blue brick.

A door sprang open at the brick. Which was now some sort of car.

Fancy ride.

Avery took his last whiff of the cigar, then put the stump back into his pocket. He'd savor that baby later.

As he helped haul the wounded people inside of the cab, four-eyes checked the bodies with an efficiency and technique that didn't belong with a civvie.

More like a soldier, or a grave-robber.

Johnson gently scooped the girl from the floor. She had woken up in the meantime, probably thanks to the medicine, and looked at him.

She asked him something, and he could've sworn that he heard English somewhere in there.

"'Scuse me?" He said. The girl flinched at his harsh tone, and he realized that he had been shouting profanities at the aliens for too long. He toned down his Johnson-voice somewhat and repeated himself. "Excuse me?"

"You speak our language?" She whispered. It sounded like English, but with the most weird-ass accent he had ever heard. She pronounced "language" all weird.

"That, or you speak mine." He placed her down in the brick-car, which looked like it had barely enough space. "You with the UNSC?"

She pulled a face. "I…what?"

"UEG?"

"N-no."

Shellshock. She couldn't remember the details. No problem; one situation at a time. "Just take it easy. I got your back."

The girl grimaced and looked away. But when the Sergeant Major turned his attention to four-eyes, who was now beckoning him, he heard her mutter, "Thank you…"

He clenched his fists. One life didn't really mean a lot at this point. "No problem."

He retrieved the stub of his cigar and stuffed it back where he belonged. He longed for its soothing taste, its calming weight on his lips.

That was the stuff.

The wounded lady took the wheel and Johnson made sure he was the last to get in. Not plenty of room; he was squished awkwardly against four-eyes, who firmly stared ahead.

He briefly wondered how many dead bodies they were leaving behind, and how long these people had been working here.

Then he shrugged off those thoughts. He needed to focus on keeping these civvies alive. There was some crazy shit going on around here.

The doors closed, the lady played with the controls and a set of doors opened to the outside.

Then, the car started levitating.

Avery peered out the window to the ground below and shook his head. Really fancy ride.

Behind them, more of the alien bastards rushed down the stairs towards their position, but they were too late. The car picked up speed and hauled ass out of that place. Bullets pinged off of its exterior, but they didn't penetrate.

And then they were out. The car raced through the air and slowly, the hospital melted away in the distance.

Johnson eased back into his seat and sighed. That was one crisis dealt with.

The human girl was pale and looked shaken, but when she spoke, her voice was resolute. "Who _are_ you?"

Avery chewed on his cigar for a few moments, torn between his duty to the UNSC and the lack of damn's he gave about it all. As far as he knew, the Covenant was finished. Their Prophets were dead, the Elites were good guys and their stupid-ass religion wouldn't kill any more humans.

But these people were aliens too. Only, they knew what he said. He didn't understand a damn word they said, but _they_ understood _him._

That made this difficult. "My name is Sergeant Major Johnson. And you boys and girls, are in big trouble." He pulled the cigar from his mouth, looked at it, and stuffed it back into his pocket. "That's my last cigar. Now _this_ Sergeant Major is pissed. Anyone wanna tell me why those sissies back there wanted you dead so bad?"

~0~

* * *

 **AN:** _shorter chapter than we're used to, I know. But making this one any longer than what it is now, would have just been detrimental to the story._

 _Anyway, one guest review I would like to respond to in the meantime._

 **Mikey P:** _if that is your perception on the plot I am building here, I would advise you to reread the sections detailing it. Carefully so. In addition, I believe it might be too soon to start with comments like "major plot failure" and "foundations that are falling apart", as the details are most certainly there._


	16. Chapter 16: Gifted

**AN:** _It's been a while, but here's chapter 16, in which nefarious schemes are uncovered._

 _~0~_

* * *

" _I am not willing to risk navy assets for a whisper, Margaret. Unless you can bring me solid proof of a this "maybe" civilization, I cannot pull our ships away from their positions. We're vulnerable right now, even with access to the Ark. I'm sorry."_

" _Understand, Terrence, that this might be a golden opportunity you are casting aside. The galaxy is a large place. A dangerous place. Humanity needs allies."_

" _Allies?_ _That doesn't sound like you, Margaret. I understand the need to explore, but I am not risking another attack. Not while we are still rebuilding our economy and industry."_

" _I propose we wait another week. If our employees can present you with solid proof of an existing civilization…"_

" _If your…employees…can find evidence of an alien civilization, I will rethink my statement."_

" _Excellent."_

 _-_ **Conversation between Lord Hood and Admiral Parangosky, [TIME STAMP REDACTED]**

~0~

 **Aboard SSV _Normandy SR-2_**

* * *

Most UNSC warships didn't offer a lot of commodities. They were meant for frontline combat, not luxury. Because of that, the Master Chief found it jarring just how manyamenities the _Normandy_ offered. When the sleep-cycle came around again and most nonessential crew went to their bunks, he took full advantage of the Frigate's shower installations. Though brief, the hot water on his skin felt very good, and he enjoyed every second of it.

The Spartan dried off after that and quickly donned his suit yet. Despite rationalizing that they were allies and despite Shepard's advice to simply "Take the leap" and trust the crew, he really, _really_ didn't trust them yet. He wanted to, but he found himself unable to even think of turning his back to one of these aliens unprotected.

Perhaps that was what had gone wrong on the Citadel. Perhaps his paranoia had taken the better of him, after a long and exhausting battle with a powerful Biotic.

Somehow, he doubted that was the full picture. It couldn't just be paranoia. Any soldier -any Spartan- would have responded like he had. Mere seconds after a harrowing battle, a wall exploding right next to you would set anybody off. It was a matter of discipline and training to expect the unexpected, to see any disturbance as a potential threat.

So why hadn't he stopped? Even more important, why hadn't he recognized that the breaching S-SEC squad hadn't been hostile enough to warrant such a lethal response?

As he checked the neck-seal of his hardsuit -just in case of sudden decompression- he heard Cortana chime in

" _Still brooding over that incident, are we? I got something more interesting for you. Guess what the Normandy is named after?"_

"A place of importance to their World War?" Supposed the Chief. He wasn't really interested right now, but he could humor her all the same.

" _I thought the same. Guess what? The Normandy is named after the country where the first major peace conference was held! From there, it took only a month to end the war. Funny how that goes."_

"Their Normandy was peace, ours was war," he mused. "Cortana, how does that work? We share our language, we share _names_. But their Earth isn't ours."

" _If you look close enough, there are plenty of differences. Most of the things can be chalked up to a divergent evolution from a certain subspecies, but to speak the same language? Yeah, that doesn't make a lot of sense."_

"So," the Spartan said as he made his way back to the hangar bay again, "You've discovered nothing?"

The AI sounded insulted when she gave her reply. " _As if! I've discovered a great many things. I've compiled a list of divergences between our humanity and theirs according to the Sol system, composition of Earth, evolution, history, culture and genetics, just in case you have eighty-seven consecutive hours of free time at your disposal."_

"Not expecting that any time soon," he remarked. He flexed his shoulders; they were still stiff, even after the quick shower.

" _Let me guess. You're itching to get back into the fight?"_

The Master Chief reached the hangar bay again and went to his usual spot. He had requested materials for a hammock before they had hit the Citadel. Keeping himself busy was one way to stave off idle thoughts and unwelcome ideas. "What is else is there to do?"

Cortana popped up via his omni-tool. She stood with her hands on her hips, obviously annoyed. "Well," she said, addressing him personally instead of using the helmet's comms. "How about the AI-friendly Jane, sitting in her personal quarters?"

The Chief raised his eyebrow. That first-name basis that Cortana and Shepard had going on bothered him for reasons he couldn't quite understand. "She's probably sleeping."

"It's Shepard. Judging by her daily habits, the chances of her sleeping right now are eleven point three percent."

"Your point?"

"Go visit her."

The Chief felt hesitative about that. He wasn't sure he wanted to face the Commander after what had happened on the Citadel. Not only had he discredited her name, but he had failed his mission. The one objective that she had given him and he had failed it. How could any Spartan face their CO after that?

He should have told Cortana about that.

But he didn't. "Visiting any Commanding Officer's personal quarters without a good reason is not acceptable."

Cortana sighed explosively. "You're being extraordinarily stubborn."

The Spartan was about to give his reply and proclaim his innocence when the AI raised her hand, stopping him. "Fine. If you could go to the armory and get me a spare omni-tool? I want to compare data."

The Chief frowned at that. When Cortana set her mind to something, she didn't just give up. Still, perhaps she had sensed his desire to be left alone for a while.

Whatever the cause of her sudden change of subject was, he wasn't going to push her. He quickly stepped towards the elevator and, eager to do _something_ with his time, set the destination.

The elevator came to a stop within a few moments. Especially odd, since the thing was about as fast as the elevator's in Installation 04's Library had been.

It became apparent why. The doors opened, revealing the dimly-lit interior of the engineering deck and a slender quarian girl.

The Master Chief immediately stepped aside, allowing the girl to enter without having to brush past him.

She was fumbling with her omni-tool and only looked up when the doors had been open for a few moments. She gasped upon seeing him, but quickly regained her composure. "Oh. Ah…right."

The Master Chief inwardly sighed. Of all moments to move around the ship, she had to have picked the same one putting her in the same room with a Spartan.

Luckily, he had donned his helmet before embarking, otherwise this would have been much more difficult to handle. From what he understood about the quarian, she was a civilian. An engineering prodigy who had followed the Commander throughout every step of her campaign against Saren, but a civilian nonetheless.

The doors slowly closed again.

"So…" she started, facing him as she did. "You are the Master Chief, right?"

He nodded. If her body language was anything like that of a human, she looked nervous. She sure sounded uncomfortable.

"I…I don't think we have been introduced, properly."

The visor of her helmet was semi-transparent, and the Chief could roughly discern the features of her face. She looked human. Still, there was a glowing orb where her mouth should be, which bore an uncanny resemblance to the breathing apparatus of a Grunt.

So when she hesitantly offered her hand towards him, he was taken aback somewhat. "I'm Tali. Tali'Zorah nar Rayya."

A long name.

" _Like Master Chief Petty Officer is so easy to pronounce."_

The Chief paused for a split-second, then took her hand and slowly, very carefully as to not harm her, shook it. Her hand felt small compared to his. Feeble, elfin.

That wasn't just him; her wrist was more slender than that of a human, even with her suit covering it up. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Zorah."

She groaned. "Please just call me Tali. "Miss Zorah" makes me feel like I'm old."

Shepard had looked young to him, but her military record was twice as long as that of the average Helljumper. The quarian sounded even younger and she didn't _have_ a military record. How old was she?

The elevator reached the third floor, the crew quarters, and slowly continued upwards towards the CIC.

"I'm glad to see you've recovered…" she then started. "I was there to help remove your armor. You were hurt pretty bad."

Staying silent seemed like an impolite thing to do, especially now that the crew might already view him in a negative light. "I have had worse."

She chuckled at that. "That sounds like something Shepard would say. But your suit was already pretty battered when she found you, so I guess…"

The elevator reached the CIC, for which the Chief was thankful. He disliked slow-moving platforms ever since he had rode those in the Library and the idle conversation didn't help matters.

"Well, this is my stop," commented the quarian. She took a few steps towards the now-empty CIC. Further down the bridge, Joker could still be seen sitting on his seat at the far end of the hallway.

Then, the girl turned around and faced the Chief again. "I just wanted to say…I don't believe you attacked those officers for no reason."

The Master Chief looked at her, surprised that she would say that.

As if sensing his curiosity, she explained why. "I was there on New Canton, when Shepard got you out. You could have stayed hidden as the slavers took the civilians, but you didn't. Plus, Shepard told me you're a human, too. You're just like her, I think."

Her remark puzzled him. In what way was he just like Shepard? And how did the quarian -Tali- know that? "You don't know me," he said, trying not to make it sound like he was accusing her.

"Funny. I told her the same thing, back when she first found me on the Citadel," she replied. "But she told me, "I'd like to". So…see you around."

After that last comment, she left, leaving the Chief alone with his thoughts.

He knew he hadn't killed those officers just because. Spartans never killed without a reason. He had been fighting for mankind's survival for decades now, doing everything in his power to stave off humanity's extinction. He didn't harm people without a very good reason.

But these people wouldn't know that. He knew what it looked like to them.

So what exactly made him "just like her"?

John supposed it didn't matter. Cortana wanted another omni-tool to work with. He should focus on that.

" _She seems nice."_

Speak of the AI and she doth appear. "The Quarian?"

" _Yeah. She's not a soldier and she's not a psycho. She's genuinely nice. And have you seen those hips?"_

"What about them?"

" _They're easy on the eyes. The latex spacesuit helps. A shame she's stuck in it."_

The Chief recalled something about that. They were defeated in a massive war after having created the Geth, artificial intelligences that got too smart. "The atypical immune system would kill her without it."

" _Like I said. A shame. Still, I like her, too."_

Didn't the quarians hate all forms of AI's? "I don't think she would like you."

" _Semantics. So! Let's get that omni-tool, shall we?"_

Cortana seemed unusually cheery. Normally, she reserved that cheeriness for when she was executing one of her schemes. Maybe the _Normandy's_ crew and systems were just more interesting to her than those of a UNSC ship?

The door to the armory was still open, though Jacob Taylor was nowhere to be found. The Chief supposed it was for the better; he would prefer to be able to do his duty without constantly encountering other people who liked stirring up conversations.

That was one thing he and Shepard _didn't_ have in common. Even her files pointed out that she loved talking. One of the analyses he had read on the extranet even alluded to that: "never let her talk", according to the rules of engagement formulated by some Terminus organizations. "If you let her talk, you're already screwed".

The Master Chief picked up one of the spare omni-tools from the equipment locker and pocketed it. At first, he had thought the Commander's reputation was somewhat farfetched. The military records Cortana had uncovered, however, were legit. Shepard's feats were legendary. They ranged from single-handedly stopping a pirate invasion on Elysium to setting international records for Biotic potential. She had talked down terrorists, cult leaders and even PTSD-crazed veterans.

Just two years ago, she had talked a rogue Spectre to death.

Literally. Saren Arterius had committed suicide after the Commander was through with him. An allegedly-brainwashed anti-human extremist eager to usher in the return of the Reapers, and Shepard talked him to death.

He was pretty sure that even Mendez would have been impressed with that.

"So what are your plans with this thing?" The Chief asked upon his return to the hangar bay.

" _Remember when I told you about the combat applications of omni-tools? The various offensive abilities made possible by omni-gel?"_

"Like the flashbang and the EMP-stun?"

" _So you did pay attention. Well, if I can cannibalize parts of the other tool's code and hardware, I should be able to supply my minions with enough orders to make it work."_

The Chief raised his brow. "Your _minions_?"

" _The nanomachines in your suit. They're still repairing the MJOLNIR's damage, but I can reassign them to the omni-tool to start updating it. They're nanomachines, you know. If you feed them more materials, they'll build more of themselves."_

He knew how nanomachines worked. Every Spartan had been briefed on the extensive nanotechnology that made the hydrogen-injected internal combustion engine and space elevator work. Still, that was different. "Just be careful. The last thing we need is nanomachines going crazy and causing a hull breach."

" _Still worrying about that? I'm a Smart AI, Chief. I can control some nanomachines."_

The Spartan sighed. "Fine. Do your thing…"

" _Great. Now, I just need you to hold these parts…"_

The two of them tinkered with the two omni-tools for about two hours before Cortana suddenly declared that she got it. After that, she told the Chief that he could go catch some shut-eye while she wrote the code, which he didn't object to.

He just hoped things would get be better the next "day-shift".

~0~

* * *

Violence was a good way to settle things peacefully. Garrus was _livid_ with how Jane had handled things with Sidonis, choosing to spare him instead of letting Garrus pop his little turian head. It had taken him the rest of that day to get over her decision, but apparently that wasn't enough.

So Jane had done the next best "sensible" thing; stay on Garrus' spiny behind until he either forgave her or got into a fight with her.

So he proceeded to challenge her to a fight and here she was, standing in a makeshift circle with Mess Sergeant Gardner as the referee smack dab in the middle of the crew quarters.

At least Jack and Zaeed were making a killing broking the bets…

A sparring match shouldn't be that brutal, but Jane felt like it was personal. At least, for Garrus it was. She had brawled with Wrex plenty of times but he had never attacked her so ferociously as Garrus did. Fighting Wrex had been more about establishing dominance. Fighting Garrus was more like letting him vent.

If she had to guess, the turian was burning away every ounce of anger and frustration he had been bottling up since they originally took down Saren. Sidonis, the mercenary gangs, maybe even his father. Those were proper targets.

The problem was that Garrus was a competent fighter with plenty of issues and Jane was probably the only person he knew who would take whatever he wanted to dish out. Well, the only person he trusted, anyway.

So Jane let him vent. She didn't use her Biotics, didn't use any martial arts except for basic hits and counters. The fight only ended when Garrus threw a particularly-nasty jab at her face, which she avoided by ducking underneath his arm and landing an equally-nasty blow of her own. And by that time, half her crew was watching the fight.

Shepard rolled with her eyes and threw the turian to the ground over her hip, before pinning him down by his cowl.

He looked exhausted, with all his anger burned away. Which was a good thing, because Shepard hadn't taken that much hits since her last game of "gang up on the human" with two Blood Pack krogan.

"Hot damn!" She heard Gardner yell. "Game set and match! Victory goes to the Commander!"

Grunt couldn't contain his happiness. "Battlemasturrr!" He barked. "Hah!"

Jane glanced at Garrus, who shrugged.

"You are such an inspiration for our little krogan…" muttered the turian.

Jane chuckled. "Someone needs to raise him."

She helped her teammate back to his feet. After a few grudging moments, he gave her a nod.

Hah. Victory. All Garrus' pissiness had left his system.

"No victory dance, Commander?" He then yelled, prompting half the crew to erupt into laughter.

And just like that, Jane felt her good mood evaporate. How the flying fuck had they discovered that she…that she _lacked_ in the dancing department? "I save those for actual victories."

The laughing turned into a crescendo of "ooh's" and "aah's!".

"Touché. Looking forward to seeing _that_ one again, Commander."

And just like that, the spectacle was gone and everybody returned to their quarters. Jack and Zaeed shared their profit together and Gardner peacefully returned to the kitchen.

Jane flexed her shoulders, which were kind of sore after the beatdown she just delivered. Not quite as sore as her sides, though. Garrus wasn't kidding; he really _did_ have reach.

She spotted the hard-to-miss form of the Master Chief, who towered over the rest of the crew even without his special power armor. While the last of her crew left for the other decks, he remained. Odd.

"Hey Chief," she said, casually approaching the super-soldier. She saw that he was still wearing his helmet, even though there was no reason he should. "How are you?"

He stiffened in response, even though it had been weeks since she first told him that she wasn't technically his commanding officer. Old habits died hard, she supposed. "Green, ma'am."

She crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a questioning look. "Yeah, I see that. I also see you're still walking. People don't generally walk that much after a powerful Biotic is through with them."

"I should have been sharper. It won't happen again."

Now she understood why he wore his helmet, too. Without it, it would be all too easy to read him. For her, at least. "Hey, walk with me for a moment."

The Commander didn't wait for his response and quickly made her way to the medical bay, where there wouldn't be anyone overhearing them. Chakwas was still discussing something with Mordin and right now, there weren't any wounded. She'd like to keep it that way.

"Don't be too hard on yourself, John," she continued. "Sometimes, bad things just happen."

"I don't fail missions, Commander. I never have before."

Jane gave him a look. "You never failed? Not even once?"

He stared back at from her from behind his hardsuit's helmet. She had no idea what he was thinking, but his silence spoke volumes.

"Like I said, bad things happen. I've failed missions, too. It's not your fault Sha'ira died and neither is it your fault the assassin got away."

"There was a friendly fire incident. People died, when they shouldn't have."

Jane winced. "Yeah, that's kind of your fault…" Her mind raced to find her a combination of words that would help defuse this situation. She knew of his excessive military past and how secretive he and Cortana were about that past. If she had to guess, there were plenty of mental scars from his war with the Covenant. Anxiety, perhaps even PTSD.

In any case, it was clear that he felt remorseful. That was a thing.

"… _but_ …I was forced to kill people I didn't want to as well. Self-defence in the greyest of areas. They jumped the gun on you and you acted to defend yourself. I told Commander Bailey the same thing."

She wanted to continue and tell the Chief that he was a good man who had already gone up and beyond the call of duty many times before, except Joker thought it was a good idea to interrupt her before she could do so.

" _Commander? The Illusive Man wants to speak to you. Apparently, it's about New Canton."_

Shepard grimaced. "Got it, Joker." She looked at the Chief and quickly said, "I'm coming back on this. Take it easy. There's not a single person aboard this ship who blames you for what happened. Except for, you know, Miranda. And Kasumi, a bit. Gabe, too…Rolston, but only because he doesn't know the whole story. My point is, I'll be right back."

Jane inwardly winced as she left the Chief behind. Sometimes, she really ought to stop talking.

She vowed to blame Tim for that. Hearing that he wanted to talk to her threw her entire agenda into disarray.

Yeah. That was it. Totally.

She made her way to the Comm room. The ship's quantum entanglement based communications array activated, the table popped down, the comms popped out and before she knew it, she was enjoying the privilege of having a realtime conversation with someone who caused flashback nightmares to her high school exams.

"Heeeey…"

The Illusive Guy exhaled a plume of smoke. " _Shepard. I…don't normally do these things, so I'll make it brief. The Batarian warships you encountered on New Canton? We found them."_

 _Batarian_. Frigates, heavy ones. A slaver invasion force in New Canton, just like on Elysium, just like on Mindoir.

Jane felt the corners of her mouth rise into a smile, just a bit.

" _Commander?"_

"Where," she growled.

He looked at her with a mixture of weariness and…something she couldn't quite place. " _Omega. Word is, someone aboard Omega placed a large order via Blood Pack officials. Those officials rerouted the order to the slaver party you and the Master Chief stopped on New Canton. They're at Omega."_

Shepard didn't wait for the man to finish. She booked it out of the room, yelled an order at Joker to get them to the Omega Nebula and immediately moved to gather her gear.

~0~

* * *

The _Normandy_ was moving, faster than it normally did. People were running around carrying weapons and other equipment.

John stood in the back of the CIC, watching Shepard bark orders like a UNSC Commander would do. The people she directed obeyed her without question, with a diligence and efficiency that would make even veteran navy personnel proud.

But it wasn't like her. Something was wrong. John's instinct _screamed_ at him that something had come up and if there was one thing a Spartan should do, something _any_ Spartan should _always_ do, it was listening to their instinct.

"Cortana?" He quietly asked. He knew that his helmet could block his speech so that nobody on the outside would hear him, but his gut told him to simply stay still. Like he was in the presence of stealthed Elites, who hadn't noticed him yet. Somehow, Commander Shepard felt like a completely different person and his gut told him to be very careful.

 _Funny feeling_.

Kurt would have known.

" _Mindoir…"_ whispered the AI.

"Excuse me?"

" _We are on-course to the Omega Nebula, the Sahrabarik System. We're heading to Omega."_

The Chief frowned. He had read about Omega. A hive filled with the worst sort of scum. Mercenaries, who had been given a dishonourable discharge from their old military unit were among the least problematic individuals one could encounter on Omega.

Go to Illium, sell your life. Go to Omega, sell your soul. Or so the old saying supposedly went.

The Master Chief had thought it an overly dramatic line of poetry, but now…he wasn't so sure.

" _Omega has a population of seven point eight million. Most of them are the type of people Spartans would get sent in against. Chief, make no mistake. If you make someone your enemy there, it'll be the Collector ship all over again."_

"Noted."

He straightened his back when he saw the Commander approach him. Gone was the casual way she strolled around the deck, or the kind glimmer in her green eyes. Right now, she reminded him more of an armed Elite than anything else.

Primed. Ready to pounce.

"Master Chief, get your gear. Close quarters combat. Prep your suit; you're going to need it."

"Ma'am!" He snapped off a brief salute and immediately headed towards the elevator. The Commander's clear and simple orders cut through the confusion and apprehension like a knife. He completely set aside his worries about the situation and focused on the upcoming fight, like he had a thousand times before.

"Did you repair the MJOLNIR?" He asked Cortana as the elevator descended towards the hangar bay.

" _Mostly. The outer shell is still compromised, but you air is rated for vacuum again. Shields are functioning, but it will take a while before the reactor is safe enough to siphon it for more explorative options. You'll have diminished shielding during this op."_

"Understood. Omni-tool?"

With a burst of blue light, Cortana's holographic avatar appeared from the MJOLNIR's right wrist.

She waved at him even as she spoke from the hardsuit's internal Comm. " _Combat applications loaded. Stun blast active. EMP pulse will drain your shields, but active. Omni-dagger, silicon-carbide weapon flash-forged by the tool's mini-fabricator, active."_

The Spartan paused. "Flash-forged by a mini-fabricator?"

" _Omni-gel. Not as good as AI-controlled nanobots, but hey, a girl's gotta have something to work with. It's diamond coated -compressed carbon gives it a real nice edge. While's it's no energy sword, it'll still cut it in a pinch."_

Seeing what she had done there, the Master Chief nodded and activated the engineering drone that had been stashed away on-deck. With Cortana controlling it, the long, tedious process of rebuilding the MJOLNIR around his body started anew.

But the Spartan was eager to be back inside his suit. Without it, he felt naked. Vulnerable. He wouldn't have lost to that strange asari with it and he certainly would have reacted in time to prevent hostilities with those C-Sec forces.

He continued on and grabbed an assault rifle and a shotgun for close work. He stuffed a sidearm into his holster and pocketed four high-explosive fragmentation grenades just in case. He took seven magazines of ammunition for his MA5; he wasn't about to let anyone else die on his watch, especially not crew from the _Normandy._

It took the ship another few hours to reach the nearest Mass Relay. From there however, it took them mere seconds to hit the Relay, propelling them hundreds of lightyears in a single bound.

The Master Chief ejected his magazine, checked to see if it was full and then slapped it back in place with a satisfying _clack_. He then did the same thing with Cortana's chip and the back of his helmet. As always, chilled mercury filled his mind when Cortana fused with his thoughts.

" _Ah…feels good to be home."_

The Spartan couldn't agree more.

~0~

* * *

 **Omega Station**

Hrakk Graglag groaned weakly. He felt the salty taste of blood in his mouth and when he tried to breathe, his chest hurt.

Damnit. One of his ribs had to be broken…

This would be the last time he trusted Batarian State Arms! He had been assured that the neural jacks worked perfectly! That, once embedded into the base of the skull, they completely prevented free thought!

So when a single human slave just barged into the cattle-hold and started killing the guards there, one might have understood Hrakk freaking out. Said freak-out turned into outright panic when the pale-skinned worm unleashed a Biotic attack strong enough to shatter the windows, exposing their room to the filthy air of the Omega skyroad.

How in the blazing hells had the guards not _checked_ that little freak for an Amp?

But Hrakk hadn't survived a decade of slaving just to die in a simple outbreak; when he saw the human weakling show that he wasn't such a weakling after all, smearing the walls with the other guards, he decided on the best course of action for a veteran snatcher like himself to stay alive.

So he pretended to be dead.

He overheard the human talking, and carefully opened one of his eyes, hoping to catch a better image of the merchandise he and his comrades would soon be dragging through the streets, naked and screaming.

His translator still worked; it automatically picked up what the human was saying and translated it to the major Batarian dialect.

"Mom!" Yelled the human. He rushed to the side of one of the older females and gently helped her up, cradling her in arms that were soaked in the blood of good Batarians. "Mom, are you okay? Can you talk?"

The woman muttered something in return, but Krakk couldn't hear what it was.

He couldn't for the life of him imagine how the human could withstand the implant; they were designed to inflict unimaginable agony, when tampered with. Slaves didn't run free once implanted, they didn't!

"Come on," whispered the human. "We need to get the hell out of here, before they come back!"

The female -the young slave's mother, Hrakk now understood- slowly reached out and touched his chest. "You used Biotics…you shouldn't…"

The child-slave uttered a short, humourless laugh. "They're just aliens."

"What…what about the others?"

The younger slave looked around, glancing at the various slaves gathered around him. Most were human, though there were a few asari and turians as well. Batarians, too. Lower castes…worthless.

Hrakk quickly closed his eyes, lest the monstrous Biotic discover he was still alive.

"They're not important. They're not _you_. Now come on!"

Despite his precarious situation, Hrakk couldn't keep himself from feeling victorious. Just aliens…not important…hah! That right there validated _everything_ the Hegemony told them about humans. Racist, xenophobic bastards who only cared about their own.

The woman could be heard stumbling and Hrakk risked another look. She was implanted, like the rest. She wouldn't simply be walking out of here without its explicit permission to do so…and that wouldn't happen.

He could hear rapid footsteps approaching them. The human heard them too and Biotically slammed the doors shut, before throwing several heavy objects in front ofit.

And then he wavered. Fool. Let him burn up his energy trying to get his family out. He'd pay for this. They'd all pay.

The boy hauled his mother to her feet and tried to aid her towards the exit, but he didn't get more than a few feet before the barricaded doors exploded outwards in a whirlwind of Biotic energy.

Blue light washed over everyone in the room and even Hrakk got blasted off his feet. Only his armor saved him from getting his organs pulped against the wall. Several slaves weren't as lucky; when the Queen herself breached the room, everybody still standing got dashed to the walls and crushed to a pulp.

The Batarian tried to laugh triumphantly, but he only managed to squeeze out a wheezing cough. Still, watching Aria T'Loak herself stride into the room, surrounded with her soldiers, was one of the best sights ever.

And she looked _pissed._

"Nothing on this station happens without me knowing it, " she hissed. "Nothing. Merchandise such as yourself should _know_ better, meat!"

The human Biotic insulted the Queen's very name by ignoring her. While she put him in his place, the slave merely climbed back to his feet and crawled to the limp body of his mother, who, just like every other slave in the room, had not been spared Aria's justice. That the boy was still alive was strange enough; Hrakk had seen first-hand what happened to victims of Omega's Queen, when they incurred her wrath. The results weren't pretty.

It was pathetic, seeing him ire Aria trying to shake his mother awake, oblivious to the fact that she was so obviously dead.

Mom, he yelled at her body as if it could still hear him. Mom.

Though the desperation in his voice as he called her name meant he just might have figured it out.

The Pirate Queen noticed that he wasn't listening and advanced on him, pulling out her Carnifex in the process.

"I've paid my dues for you. We all have. Dealing with slavers is always a hassle and you have undone everything, you miserable little wretch…"

Aria kicked him in the side, knocking him on his back. She then placed her boot on his throat and took aim at his head.

"So consider this a kindness. Few get it."

But the piece of meat didn't consider it anything. With a wordless scream of rage, he grabbed a hold of her boot and unleashed a powerful surge of Biotic energy, knocking her back a few feet. He tried to get back on his feet, but Aria allowed no such thing. She Biotically Pushed him with enough force to send him flying out the window, down the starry skyroads of Omega's twisting streets.

They wouldn't be bothered by _that_ defective cattle again.

But the Queen seemed to think otherwise. She stepped over the corpse of one of the killed slaves and looked out the window, glancing around.

"Tell Captain Gor'vak to get lost," she ordered one of her men. "His ship attracts too much attention. Send word out on the streets, too. A little human wretch thinks it can fuck with Omega."

~0~

* * *

 **Aboard Normandy Shuttle 01**

The Master Chief glanced at the red space station with a sense of dawning unease. He saw swarms of smaller ships circling around the massive mined-out asteroid and from a distance, they could be mistaken for warships.

" _I know what you're thinking,"_ said Cortana. " _The similarities are uncanny."_

"High Charity was destroyed," he calmly said. More to reassure himself than Cortana. "We destroyed it."

" _You're completely right. Don't worry; Omega is about as large as the Citadel. Forty kilometres, max. It probably has a main reactor, too. You know, just in case you think the resemblance become too uncanny."_

The Master Chief checked the display of his assault rifle for the third time. "I don't think that would be necessary."

The shuttle docked in one of the smaller openings at the bottom of the asteroid-segment, after which the shore party entered Omega. Jacob Taylor, Zaeed Massani and Miranda Lawson casually left the shuttle and the Chief warily followed them into the dark hallway with flashing red lights.

Shepard led the way and the rest loyally followed her. Except for Jacob Taylor, who lagged behind somewhat.

The Master Chief didn't pay him much attention and walked past him. He immediately turned to face the man when he reached out for him, however.

"Master Chief, a word, please?" Said Jacob.

The Chief didn't particularly feel like having a word, but Jacob seemed somewhat worried. So he gestured with his head in the universal "go ahead" signal.

"Omega is ruled by an asari called "Aria T'Loak". Read about her?"

"Not much."

Jacob scratched his neck in unease and continued. "Well…she's the _de facto_ reader of Omega. A pirate queen, a mercenary and, according to Shepard, a ruthless and corrupt killer."

The Chief didn't see why that would pose a problem. "So?"

"It's complicated. She's old, at least old enough to be a Matriarch. She's a very powerful Biotic and her organization is loyal to the core. No matter who she deals with, she makes sure she has the upper hand in the bargaining and the worst thing of all…she always tries to get the last word in a conversation."

That got the Spartan's attention alright. "But Shepard always wants the last word."

Jacob nodded. "You're starting to see the picture. If you think Miranda and Jack are bad, wait until you see Shepard and Aria together. The Commander _hates_ her guts and the feeling is completely mutual."

"Mutual?" What had Shepard done to this Aria to make her hate the woman?

"I don't need to tell you that batarians don't go well with Shepard. Aria likes to employ them a lot, _especially_ when it involves Shepard. The first time we came here, the Commander savaged the batarian sent to escort her to the club where Aria resided, Afterlife. Aria never forgot that."

The Chief could approve of that. "So, we kill her?"

"What?" Jacob seemed mortified. "No! A fight is the _last_ thing we want! Aria is a very powerful and very dangerous individual. She and Shepard will try to provoke each other as much as possible and the last thing we need is that to escalate! We're here to keep Shepard from attacking her!"

"Commander Shepard is a highly lethal vector on her own," replied the Spartan. "If she thinks Aria is better off dead, I won't hesitate."

"Chief!" Jacob replied like the Spartan just proposed a one-Shepard assault on the station. "We're good, but Aria has an army!"

At this point, John really couldn't be bothered to care about a bunch of privateers and mercenaries, especially not when they potentially hid the slavers responsible for sacking New Canton. "Don't we have a krogan?"

And with that, the Master Chief hurried to join Shepard before she got too far ahead.

" _We have a krogan. AND a psychotic biotic. AND a cranky Spartan! But in all seriousness, perhaps you should wait before engaging your next powerful Biotic user. It's hard to repair warped materials."_

"Jacob wasn't there on New Canton," the Chief quietly replied. "Those slavers were no better than the Covenant. If this asari is actively hiding them…"

" _Then Shepard will deal with that her own way. Besides; remember what we talked about before? Seven point eight million inhabitants? Collector ship flashbacks?"_

"I'll be careful."

" _Good. And in the meantime, I found some interesting radio signatures to work with. Patching them through to Shepard."_

The Commander stopped when she exited the first door, right in the middle of what looked like an open space. There was a large structure up ahead, with several rows of people standing in line of a single large door. The words above it read "AFTERLIFE".

Aria's club.

To the left, the sky-lines of Omega could be seen. Skycars raced around and multiple districts were visible beyond the rim.

"Hang on…" said the Commander. "Something's wrong, something's…EDI?"

" _Commander. I am receiving secured transmissions from a slaver Frigate. Apparently, one of the slaves escaped custody. He was last seen in the slums, trying to evade patrols."_

Cortana laughed. " _Hah. A badly-secured transmission. Let me see…apparently, our escaped slave is armed and highly dangerous. Strange."_

"Commander?"

"You don't just escape a batarian slave vessel…" muttered Shepard. "It doesn't happen. EDI…who is this person?"

" _Unknown."_

"Yeah, yeah…hope my little friend knows…"

" _Oh!"_ Said Cortana. " _That's me! Let's see…Omega has an interesting administration system…randomly-generated, procedurally-forged, but not all that's it made up to be…apparently, our escaped slave carries an Amp."_

"So that's what I've been feeling…"

Miranda turned to face the Commander, while Zaeed started appreciating the sight of the slums. "Ehm…Shepard?"

"Just a funny feeling…'member Samara? Her attuning to Biotics?"

"Yeah…I do?"

"Something out here is making a mess of things. Come on, I want to see it."

It was apparently normal for the Commander to just run off somewhere, as she immediately darted off to her left, where a small exit led to a different district.

"Damnit!" Snapped Miranda. "Not again…"

Very normal.

The Master Chief made sure to go last, so that he could cover the squad as they ran down narrow alleys and corridors, chasing Shepard as she trailed _something_ that got her attention.

It was definitely an odd feeling, not taking point. For the past fifty battles he had been the one to lead the team through whatever hostiles area needed exploration. From cramped freighters to icy glaciers, from chaotic Cruisers to wide open plains. Everywhere he went, he went guns blazing, leading a team of Marines, or ODST's, or even Elites.

But not Spartans. He didn't even know if his Spartans were even alive. They might have perished during the Covenant's assault on Earth, along with the other millions of civilians and soldiers. He hadn't seen them on the Ark.

He shook those thoughts out of his head and focused on keeping the shore party alive. There were people around them, yelling at them as they ran by. In the distance, something exploded, but nobody seemed to care.

And the place stank, even through the MJOLNIR's filters. Was this what Omega was like? As bad as the extranet had made it look?

How exactly the Commander knew where to go, the Chief didn't know. She ducked into narrow alleys, climbed atop the roof of what appeared to be a slum-district and sprinted towards an impact site in the centre.

Something raced across his motion scanner behind him and he whirled around, gun at the ready.

There wasn't anything.

He was puzzled, but he couldn't allow that to keep him for long. He pushed the strange contact out of his mind and continued chasing after the Commander, who didn't possess the luxury of a motion scanner and was thus unable to detect such fast-moving signatures.

He didn't need to go very far, fortunately. Whatever it was she was looking for, she had found it here in the slums. She, along with Miranda, stopped near the blown-out remains of a building, where several figures lay sprawled across the ground. Two humans, one of which was scarcely clad, one batarian and an asari.

The Commander got down on one knee and surveyed the area. "Hah…found it."

"Commander, what did you find?" Miranda said with an exasperated voice. If she was frustrated with the Commander, she didn't show it.

"Obvious, 'innit?" Quipped Zaeed Massani. "A bunch of corpses."

Jacob sighed. "Yes, we can see that. Commander, I must ask. What are we going to do here?"

The signature was back. The Chief turned to his left and spotted something small and purple flying around the edges of the slum. His training kicked in. Time slowed down as he aligned the sights of his assault rifle with the target and he brought his finger to the trigger, ready to squeeze-

Only for the target to suddenly snap out of the air and towards them in a very erratic pattern, engulfed in the blue corona of Biotic fields.

"There we go," said Shepard. She had one arm extended to the little target, which the Chief now recognized as a drone. With a mounted camera, no less. "Finally got you. Surprised you didn't get it before, Chief. How did you know I wanted it intact?"

John lowered his gun. "…lucky guess?"

"Lucky number one one seven. Zaeed, would you hold this for a moment?"

The mercenary eagerly took the captured drone and promptly ripped a piece of electronics out, disabling its flight capabilities. "Heheh…a model ninety-two. Very old. I remember when my old team and I first encountered one, couple of years ago. It was a freezing winter in eighty-one…"

As Zaeed started reminiscing about ancient history with himself, the Commander gestured at Jacob, who immediately snapped to attention and joined her.

"Chief, Miranda, keep an eye out for more. I'm going to have a looksee."

The Master Chief, who had no idea what a looksie was, raised his gun again and moved to cover their entrance. It felt strange, obeying direct orders in a combat position. Just as strange as not taking point, he supposed. Not that he disliked it; in fact, he felt strangely comfortable taking Shepard's orders. He doubted any UNSC officer could have replicated that effect.

Except for Jacob Keyes or his daughter, Miranda. More exemplary individuals taken by the war, more people he had failed to protect-

He shook his head and sighed. Reminding himself wouldn't help his current position. His mind had to stop doing that.

"Hello there," he heard the Commander gently speak. She spoke soft enough to go practically unheard, but the MJOLNIR's powerful systems allowed him to pick up a whisper in a storm. "Take it easy, I'm a friend."

Someone weakly groaned.

"I'm not going to hurt you…"

A flare of brilliant light immediately got the Chief's attention and he spun around, ready to cover the Commander and riddle any hostile target with bullets. Miranda and Zaeed reacted a fraction of a second later, but they too immediately responded to any threat to their commanding officer.

Shepard sat kneeling next to one of the humans, holding him by his wrist and his forehead. Both of them were glowing with Biotic energy, though the red hint of the Commander's won out. The human she held -a teenager- struggled for a few seconds before suddenly glowing limp.

"There we go…"

"Commander!" Shouted Miranda. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, yeah…" Shepard casually waved her concerns away. "The kid's not though. This whole place feels like it got caught in a Biotic explosion. It's all…vibrating and humming. Has been for a while. Thought it might be a good idea to check it out, but then the drone started following us and it became an even _better_ idea to check it out. Still got it, Zaeed?"

"Yes ma'am!" Zaeed spoke with a soft chuckle.

"Good. Take its data-chip and then dump it… _right_ there."

"On it."

The Chief took a look at the person Shepard had been after. It was a human male, barely an adolescent. His hair was blond and dirty and when Shepard carefully picked him up, the Chief saw that his back was covered with angry crisscrossing scars.

"I'll be goddamned…" muttered Zaeed. "Those scars…"

"Yup."

"What about them?" Asked Jacob.

Zaeed scowled. "That's Batarian work. Look at his neck."

"Nope." Shepard instead used her Biotics to pluck a piece of fabric from underneath a pile of rubble. The remains of a carpet, or maybe curtains. She used them to cover the boy up somewhat. "You're right, of course, but first we're going to get him out of here."

"I don't get it," said Miranda. "What about his neck? Shepard, who is this?"

"If you look at his neck, you will find the scars of a crude surgical procedure. Batarians just _love_ to implant their slaves with neural jacks, to keep them nice and meek. I think we found the lost slave. He even has an Amp…morons didn't remove it."

"If that's the slave," said Jacob, "The "masters" can't be far away."

It was that moment that the Master Chief's motion sensor registered more movement, somewhere behind them. "Commander," he called. "We've got company. Twenty meters away, five contacts."

Shepard sighed. "Zaeed, Jacob, take the kid and bring him back to the _Normandy_. Don't let anyone see you, least of all _her_."

Both men snapped to attention and moved to pick the boy up. The Chief, realizing he was now dealing with a VIP situation, adjusted accordingly. "Commander, permission to engage?"

Shepard made a face. "I hate conundrums…no, no…damnit."

She muttered that last part, but the Chief still caught it. Miranda moved to take Shepard's left flank and John, somewhat confused why they weren't engaging the targets, moved to take the right.

" _Neural jacks…I don't think that has the same benign reasons for implanting as the neural interface,"_ said Cortana. " _To keep them nice and meek…that implies motoric disablers and perhaps cognitive disturbance. A portable lobotomy."_

The Master Chief didn't like the sound of that, but right now, he needed to concentrate on winning this fight. The contacts casually wandered out in the open and the Chief suppressed the desire to simply open fire and cut them all down.

That they would enter a hostile area in such a loose formation meant they were either very foolish, or very confident.

The group was led by an asari with purple skin. She wore an open white vest and black, leather pants. She had markings on her skin, too, but nothing like the asari he had seen before. Two batarians stood at her flank. They, in turn, were followed by two turians.

Who was she? The owner of the slave? Or was this Aria T'Loak, the asari he had been warned against?

The Chief supposed he'd find out soon enough. He did take an instant dislike to her, however.

"Shepard," spoke the asari. Her voice was laced with annoyance, but also confidence. She carried herself with an air of command that felt somehow different from Shepard's. "There is only one rule on Omega. Recite it."

No, she didn't just carry herself with an air of command. It was like she expected more than that. Obedience, perhaps. Beyond military reasons. Total obedience, which others would hurry to offer. She would expect that.

It reminded him of Regret.

The Commander stared back with a sly smirk. It didn't meet her eyes. "Hmm…had a busy week, Aria. Lots of things happened, not all of it pretty. Bring me your big blue book of justice and I'll recite it."

Aria T'Loak's eyes narrowed and the Chief noticed that she clenched her fists. He tensed up, ready to strike at a moment's notice.

And she saw it. Somehow, his change in mentality was reflected in his appearance, as the asari broke her staring contest with the Commander to look at _him_ instead.

That moment didn't last long, as her eyes flashed back to Jane after a few moments. "I thought I made myself clear the last time. Nothing on Omega even _twitches_ or I know about it."

Now Shepard's smile disappeared. "Yes, I do remember _that_. Nothing happens on this station or the queen herself knows about it. So tell me, what's a batarian slave frigate doing here?"

"None of your damn business. Always the batarians with you…" she shot a sideways glance at one of her subordinates. "I would almost be tempted to think you were obsessed."

Miranda tensed up as well.

T'Loak didn't pay any attention to her.

"I had a fallout with them on an Alliance colony, where I butchered their little friends. I don't think you look like a human, Aria. But I think _I_ do. So when slavers try to kidnap the civilians I am sworn to protect, that would kind of make it my business." There was a slight hint of challenge in her voice.

Nothing visibly changed, but the air suddenly felt very heavy. Three powerful Biotics were getting ready to open up on each other and he was standing right in the middle.

Strangely, the Chief felt very calm.

"It stopped being your business when you arrived on Omega. I own this place, Shepard, and you're coming _very_ close to breaking my only rule. Return my property to me. Or don't, I don't care. Either way, I'm _taking_ it."

"Chief, be a sweetie and return Miss T'Loak's property to her, would you?" said the Commander.

Cortana snickered and placed a waypoint on the Spartan's HUD, right where Zaeed Massani had dumped the drone.

Without its footage.

 _Have I mentioned how much I like her today? I don't think I have."_

The Spartan immediately marched over towards the drone and picked it up with one hand. The metallic frame felt strangely heavy for such a small machine. It had been up-armored to help it resist small arms fire.

He brought the now-defunct drone back to the asari and offered it to her.

Aria T'Loak _glared_ at him. It reminded him of a Brute Chieftain whose pack had been killed off. By him.

She gestured with her head to one of the batarians, who immediately shot forwards and grabbed a hold of the drone. The Chief released it a split-second before the alien could get a proper grip on it, causing the batarian to stumble and nearly drop it.

He lowered his arm again and was about to move back to Shepard's side when Aria's hand shot out and seized his wrist.

A Zealot couldn't have held him down, but there was something about the gesture that made him hesitate to rip his hand free. He had a feeling that this entire meeting would blow up if he did and the Commander and Miss Lawson were both standing in the open. He might be able to incapacitate Aria's team in close quarters combat before they could open fire, but he didn't want to risk it.

So he met her eyes and, in doing so, engaged her in that little power-play she had going on. She might have centuries of experience, but he never lost.

"And who…might you be?" She quietly said.

"That's just the Chief," Jane quickly said. A bit too quickly, even for her. Was it just him, or did she sound somewhat concerned?

"You're a new one…" continued Aria. Her eyes glimmered with recognition and her lips parted in slight smile. "Ah, you are the Master Chief."

Now she had John's attention. He slowly lowered his wrist, felt her struggle with resistance and continued unopposed. Eventually, she relented and released his wrist.

"Don't play games with me Shepard," T'Loak then said, but she never took her eyes off of the Spartan. "You're making powerful enemies. If I find out you stole from me, not even The Illusive Man can keep you safe."

"The Illusive Man isn't the one keeping her safe," the Chief softly said, against his better judgement. Everything about this person felt wrong and his instinct screamed at him to eliminate her with extreme prejudice, like he would when a pair of Hunters engaged a lone Marine.

Except, she felt more dangerous than a pair of Hunters. He found it difficult to reason why, however.

But he would not let veiled threats to the Commander slide.

"Charming," Aria replied sarcastically. "Hop back to your master, tin soldier. Your kind doesn't last long on Omega without restraint."

Shepard took a few steps towards him and stopped at his side. "I'm not his master. I don't have a _leash_ …and people who do quickly find out that it's a very small galaxy when I find out. Just something to keep in mind, Aria."

The two women stared at each other again, trying to establish some form of dominance no doubt. Eventually, T'Loak gestured to her lackeys again and they stepped out of the way.

Shepard threw the asari one last glare and then walked past her, with Miranda on her heels.

The Master Chief didn't need an order that time and quickly fell in line, eager to get out of that place ASAP.

Hollowed-out asteroids filled with privateers and outlaws…it was like the Insurrection all over again. And this time, it wasn't a defected UNSC officer who led them but a psychotic Biotic warlord. Aria T'Loak…Jacob Taylor had been completely right about her.

" _Well, that was…interesting,"_ Said Cortana. " _I don't like her."_

The Chief snorted. "She seems dangerous. If we keep operating in this rock, we will have to neutralize her."

" _Just as long as you're not wearing a normal hardsuit, I'm game. She is a surprisingly-hard woman to keep tabs on, but even a ruthless pirate queen has files. I'm saving the cracking process for a special occasion."_

"Shepard?" Miranda eventually broke the silence. "I think it's safe to say that you royally pissed her off this time."

"She had it coming. Everything must end one day, Miranda. Everything. The krogan know that better than most, even though few want to admit it. _She's_ been playing the part of the ruthless cutthroat for three centuries. So many have died because of her, I doubt even EDI could give me a decent number."

The Master Chief supposed that Shepard's logic had to apply to herself as well. "What about the slaves?" He asked. "The batarian Frigate?"

"Not here, not now. First, we're going to make sure our escapee survives the next twenty-four hours. We're in the Terminus Systems, so neither Alliance nor Council jurisdiction actually counts here."

"Even if it did, the Alliance wouldn't risk it," Miranda bitterly remarked.

" _Ouch. Seems there's some bad history there."_

"That lack of jurisdiction goes both ways," said the Chief. "If your…Alliance…won't step in, we should."

They reached the airlock that led to their shuttle. Zaeed and Jacob were already waiting for them there, weapons at the ready.

"Shepard!" Zaeed yelled with a voice that seemed uncharacteristically happy. "Hell of a time with you! Aria T'Loak, now _there's_ a story!"

"Sorry Zaeed, storytime has to wait. How's our guest?"

The mercenary pointed a thumb at the shuttle. "Napping in the back. He won't be waking up anytime soon, I think."

"That was very close, Commander," said Jacob. "Diving into Omega's slums like that. Please tell me you didn't antagonize Aria further."

Shepard shrugged. "It's a principle thing. Anyone else starving? I heard Rupert doesn't use asses anymore."

As the squad boarded the shuttle and moved to rendezvous with the _Normandy_ again, John realized that something didn't make sense. "Cortana? What did we achieve, back there?"

" _What do you mean?"_

"We went after the batarian Frigate for a reason. But we didn't find the slavers, nor did we free the slaves. What did we accomplish?"

" _You didn't follow the whole deal with Aria and Jane, did you?"_

He frowned. "Of course I did. It nearly escalated."

Cortana sighed. " _Of course he did…Chief, Aria T'Loak and Jane have history together. Jacob hinted at that, remember? Aria was the one who bought these slaves, she paid the batarians for the humans they took."_

"I guessed as much. But one escaped."

" _Yup. And the queen-bitch was very pissed that she lost him. Nevertheless, there is one other problem."_

John, who wasn't used to Cortana being this blunt, was still processing that she had sworn, when she directed his attention back to the bombshell Aria had dropped.

" _She knows about you. More than she should."_

He recalled that part of the conversation too. "She knows my rank. Either someone's informing her, or she has access to the _Normandy's_ files."

" _Or she paid a third party to observe you and Shepard, or she found the_ Dawn's _wreckage, or her drone overheard us talking. There are many ways she could have found out. What's more important is that she took an interest in you."_

Great. Another crazy asari after his head. "We really should have killed her when he had the chance."

" _Maybe. I think we should focus on the asari from the Citadel first. There was something about her that doesn't sit right with me…"_

The shuttle eventually docked with the _Normandy_ and the ground team filed in through the airlock. Zaeed, Miranda and Jacob immediately made a beeline for the CIC, but Shepard lingered near the airlock.

The Chief was about to bid his goodbye and return to his quarters when Cortana scraped her throat.

" _Nah-ah. Go talk to her."_

He hesitated for a second, but the grudgingly did as she told him. "Shepard."

The Commander had been observing a little post-it on the door to the airlock. It read: "Commander Shepard is hereby forbidden from using the airlock to get rid of items and personnel she disagrees with".

John wasn't sure if it was some sort of practical joke, or if there had been an incident he had not been informed of.

"Chief."

The Commander kept her back to him, with her hands clasped behind her back. "What you said to her was reckless. You shouldn't have done that, John." She turned around and gave him a stern look, before smiling warmly. "Thanks for that."

" _Coming here was reckless," he said, his voice harsh. "You two should know better than that." The Chief was about to explain his orders when Keyes' expression warmed, and the Autumn 's CO smiled. "Thanks."_

"Any soldier should be regarded a failure if they cannot protect their commanding officer," he softly replied. He wasn't going to fail Shepard like he had failed Keyes. Like he had failed his daughter.

No way.

Jane gave him an odd look. "Oh? But what if your commanding officer likes to get in danger?"

That remark puzzled him. Why would any CO do that? "Then they'd be unfit as a leader."

Her expression soured. "Ouch.

" _Sometimes, you can be SUCH an idiot…"_

Something about the way both women replied to him made him feel like he had missed something.

"Good thing I'm not really your commanding officer then," Shepard said, somewhat snidely. She pursed her lips like she was pouting, before adding, "Let me rephrase that. What if your _Shepard_ likes to get in danger?"

John was starting to feel like he was being surveyed by a debriefing committee. And with Cortana following every word of this conversation, he sort of was.

Although walking in a minefield might be a more appropriate comparison…"My…Shepard? I would keep a close eye on him. Her. I would keep a close eye on her."

The Commander all but glared at him as he said that. For several moments, the tension in the air was so thick that he was starting to wonder if he wouldn't be safer on Omega. But then she smiled. A real, genuine smile filled with kindness and warmth. "Good. Lucky me."

And with that, she reached out and placed her hand against the side of his helmet, where his cheek would be located. "I hope you can keep up, John."

Then she turned and left, leaving a moderately-confused Spartan to reflect on what had just happened.

Joker's voice rang out from the cockpit. "Real smooth, big guy."

The Spartan rolled with his eyes and returned to the CIC. He didn't know what he was looking forward to more; Cortana calling him a barbarian again or waiting a full minute for the elevator to arrive.

At least he wasn't covered in blood again.

~0~

* * *

 **Medical bay**

 **One hour later**

Jane wasn't a krogan. She was pretty sure that her parents would have told her that at one point during their happy but extremely-short time together on Mindoir. Still, fourteen years was long enough for parents to tell their girl that she was secretly a krogan and she had never been told such as thing.

So why, she wondered, did she have _such_ a good synergy with violence? She was pretty sure she didn't enjoy killing, but violence itself? She had an emotional dependence on it. It helped her empty her mind, straighten her thoughts, push away unhappy memories and get sleepy.

And Aria T'Loak always made her feel like she wanted to get sleepy.

Of course, having Grunt as a permanent member of her crew helped a _lot_. Jane seriously doubted he understood just how much she valued the time he spent butting heads with her -literally, as opposed to a certain purple-skinned asari- but in the end, that didn't really matter. He was there to redecorate the room with her when she needed it and for that, she treasured him.

And now that she had sufficiently violenced herself calm again, she thought it time to visit the _Normandy's_ latest visitor.

Although visitor implied a degree of conscious decision on the person's part. Jane believed that the young man had been somewhat unconscious as Jacob and Zaeed brought him back to the ship.

It was for his own good, really. He was a Biotic, a very strange one. She had felt all sorts of traces of ambient energy emanating from him, most of them unfamiliar to her. But if Aria T'Loak wanted him bad enough that she was willing to "stride among her servants" to find him, he had to be important enough to warrant her personal attention.

In Harbinger's words, Aria wanted to direct it personally.

And there were very few people that deserved to be stuck on a piss-hole like Omega with an entire slaver Frigate filled with batarians after their head.

After a quick stop at the mess hall, the Commander dropped by the medical bay, where they had temporarily dropped their guest off. Doctor Chakwas stood by the door, reading a datapad.

"Hey Karin. Brought you some coffee."

"Commander. How thoughtful; I appreciate it."

The good doctor put her pad away and took the steaming mug in both hands. "I assume you are curious about our guest?"

Jane glanced through the window of the medical bay. He was sitting upright, clad in a medical gown. He was staring ahead blankly with a perfectly-neutral face. A little bit too neutral, to her likes. "Yeah. He doing well?"

"Physically, he's fine. Exhausted after Biotic overuse, wounded from what I can only assume are skirmishes on Omega and bleeding from a peculiar wound in his neck."

"Batarian surgery?" It took all of Shepard's willpower to keep her voice from trembling. Getting riled up in front of a hardened veteran was one thing. Losing her cool in front of the fragile Karin was a completely different thing.

"Yes and no. I detected no sign of the neural jack after scanning for it, so I can only presume the slavers accidentally forgot to actually implant it after they made the incision. That, or he somehow lost it. He _does_ bear the scars of their marking process, as well as the burn wounds of the branding process."

"I've never gotten the point of branding prisoners. I mean, they get chipped and implanted, so why bother?"

The doctor sighed. "Mostly for humiliation instead of identification. It eases the dehumanization of the victims, as not every batarian is a _willing_ slaver."

Shepard crossed her arms. "You don't want to get too attached to the merchandise."

"Correct. I presume their culture has something to do with it as well. Species with less than four eyes…"

"…are inferior. Yeah, Anderson taught me that after I signed up. So…is he ready for a visitor?"

A dark look crossed over Chakwas' face. It was only there for a split-second, but Jane saw it nonetheless. "I suppose so yes, if you can get him to talk, that is."

Shepard peered through the window again. "He's conscious."

"That he is."

"He seems consciously conscious."

"Definitely so."

"But he doesn't talk?"

"That's what I said."

"…I'm going to have a talk with him."

She didn't miss how Karin rolled with her eyes, though she pretended to. "Of course, Commander. I will give you two some privacy."

As the good doctor headed towards the table in the mess hall, Jane casually entered the medical bay and got a closer look on the recently-freed slave, who was still blankly staring ahead like he was having a staring contest with the floor.

A case of shellshock, perhaps. Most batarian victims had it. His eyes were still red from crying however, which pointed to a certain awareness of his plight.

It reminded her a lot of Tabitha, the girl she had met on the Citadel two years back. Another victim of the "illegal" slave-trade in the Terminus.

 _I remember me._

"Hey," she softly said, not wanting to startle him too badly.

There wasn't the slightest response.

Well, that was to be expected.

"I'm Commander Shepard. I'm here to help."

Still no response. She was starting to wonder if that scan Chakwas had mentioned had maybe discovered a form of brain damage, or a bad concussion.

Batarians didn't just _forget_ to implant their victims. They were very meticulous about that. But this young man had been escaping, he had been _fighting_ to escape _._ He couldn't have done that if the neural jack was still active.

Jane was starting to feel somewhat uncomfortable. Something about this situation wasn't right and she was missing something, something important. Maybe even something right in front of her.

"Do you have a name?" She tried.

This wasn't working. They might have to wait until he was responsive, or bring him to the nearest System Alliance outpost and work things out from there. They would be able to discover where he came from, perhaps even locate some surviving family members of his.

A cynical little voice in the back of her head told her that his family was likely dead. And he looked old enough to sign up with the military…

Unwelcome thoughts weren't welcome. She ignored them and decided that the kid might need some sleep before he was in any position to talk. Slavers liked their victims nice and drowsy, after all.

Jane turned around to leave again. She didn't get more than three steps before something interesting happened.

"You're gifted."

The Commander tried to remember which question she had asked that warranted such an answer. She failed miserably, so she settled for turning back around and taking the bait. "Yup. That's me. I'm Commander Shepard, here to help. And you are…?"

The boy stared at her with a truly alien expression. Individually, his features might have expressed some rudimentary feeling or message, but they didn't seem to come together in any meaningful way.

Her feeling of unease became that much more noticeable.

She did like the blue color of his eyes, though. "Right. At this point, you are supposed to tell me your name."

"William Johannes Everheart," he told her in a monotone voice.

Telling was stretching it a bit too much. He _recited_ his name, like he was quoting a book instead of sharing his identity.

And she didn't like the way he stared at her. Unblinking, devoid of any clear message he wanted to share with her.

It didn't happen to her often that she found herself unable to read someone. Very frustrating.

"That's a nice name," replied Jane. She wasn't going to treat someone differently because they unnerved her. "So then William, can you tell me how you escaped? You were abducted by batarian slavers."

"They told me to "eat"."

"Uh-huh?" When he didn't continue, Jane asked, "How did that help you?"

Finally, he blinked. "Violence makes me stronger. It gives me focus. I identify with it."

That was the kind of answer she'd expect _Grunt_ to give her, or Jack. Not a boy who looked like he was barely legal enough to hold a gun. But she supposed the answer made sense to him. "And that helped you escape…okay then."

Then it hit her; Biotics often had a knack, or a thing, that motivated them Jack's strange obsession with killing made her stronger when she indulged in her dark fantasies in a fight, while Thane grew stronger the more he focused on a single task.

Things.

So he _had_ told her how he escaped. In his own way.

"And then you were alone on Omega. The name of the station they brought you," she clarified. "A haven for criminals and pirates. Bad guys. Usually. What happened then?"

"She perished."

Jane blinked. "Oh. Who did?"

"My mother."

It was _really_ disturbing to hear someone talking about their dead mother in a tone of voice that would make EDI sound like a livewire. "I'm…sorry to hear that. How did that happen?"

There was absolutely no emotion on his face as he told her that an alien wench had murdered her using "the gift".

 _Gifted._

He was talking about Biotics. Why call them that? "What did she look like? This alien wench?" Asked Jane.

"Unspeakably unsightly and breathtakingly beautiful."

Shepard had a nagging feeling that she knew exactly who had murdered his mom. "And did she have purple skin?"

"Yes."

Jane swore that when she saw Aria T'Loak again, she'd feed her scalp to a Thresher Maw. "I'm sorry to hear that. I really am. My home was attacked by batarians too, when I was young. They killed my mother and father as well, so I can relate."

"Is that why you hate them?"

That took her by surprise. "'Scuse me?"

"Batarians, aliens, the normal ones. You tense up when they're mentioned…flex your muscles, set your jaw. You hate them and that makes your gift that much more brighter to look at." He paused. "Too bright for my eyes."

Yeah, he was definitely starting to freak her out. It wasn't as much the unexpected psycho-analysing that would make Kelly squirm with the offense, but that he had more or less summed up what made _her_ Biotics so powerful.

But she wasn't a krogan, so she won. "You call it a gift…" she then told him, subtly telling him that he had overstepped the boundaries of politeness by changing the subject. "Why is that?"

The boy squinted and then reached for his eyes, as if they were hurting. "That's what she called it…" he muttered. "The word "Biotic" is profanity where I live. Lived. Calling it a gift made it easier. So bright."

Jane realized that his eyes were wet, glanced at the lights in the medical bay and connected the dots. She gestured with her omni-tool and dimmed them. "That better?"

"No."

Odd.

The Commander stood up and circled around him. He tried to squirm and keep his eyes on hers, but she gently placed her hands on his shoulders and kept him down. He felt brittle, like he might break if she put too much force on his slender frame. Not like Joker, but fragile nonetheless. "Quit trying to stare at me. It's impolite. William, you have a _hell_ of a burn wound on your back. And these wounds -don't they hurt?"

"Terribly."

"Then why didn't you _say_ so? We had a doctor in here, she was inspecting you!"

Bright lights, horrible wounds, mother killed…no wonder his eyes were watery. He was crying, but without the actual crying.

He couldn't be much older than seventeen or so.

It screamed "disorder" at her. "I'm going to give you some time to rest in a few. Could you tell me if the aliens did surgery on you?"

"Yes."

"Did they…this is going to sound nasty. Did they put something inside your head?"

"Yes."

Jane gritted her teeth. "You're welcome to freak out, you know. This thing that they put in your head, what happened to it?"

"I burned it."

Huh. "You what?"

"I burned it."

"What does that mean?"

"I used the gift."

He burned a neural jack using his Biotics? He used his brain to destroy something in his brain?

Jane made a mental note to ask Chakwas to scan for brain damage and fixed William's gown again. "There. I'm going to ask miss Chakwas -our doctor- to give you something against the pain. I will make sure you end up with the right people, Will. You should rest for now."

She couldn't do much more than that. Normally, she could easily decide on the best course of action when it came to people. It was pretty obvious to her now that there was nothing "normal" about this situation.

She needed to know more before taking action. Maybe Mordin could help shed some light on it.

"Commander?"

"Doctor?"

Karin stood up from the table and approached her. "I presume you managed to get our patient talking?"

Jane hesitated. "In a way, yeah. He's hurting, pretty bad. Give him a sedative, to help him sleep. Some medi-gel might help, too. Keeping the door locked is pretty handy too."

"Locked, Shepard? Surely he didn't prove to be hostile?"

"Surely? No. But I'm not risking it. Something's definitely wrong with him, but I can't say what…make sure you keep Thane around when you treat the kid."

"Thane Krios?" Chakwas sighed. "I won't doubt you, Commander, but I prefer not to give my patients the absurd idea that I might fear them."

Which was exactly why she wanted Thane to keep an eye out. A skilled assassin like him knew just about a hundred ways to conceal his presence. "Noted."

A few minutes later, when she dropped by Mordin to see how he was doing, her mind was still struggling to process the rather one-sided conversation. She couldn't rule out brain damage, but she couldn't rule out that she had taken in a second Jack either.

No, that wasn't fair. Jack was messed up in her own ways, but she was honest. And, Jane suspected, secretly longing for bonds that wouldn't hurt her.

Luckily, Mordin's laboratory contained something that made her immediately forget about the weird conversation. The old salarian wasn't alone; he was watching a vid with John of all people.

Jane glanced at the screen that the two guys were huddled up for. It wasn't any vid she wanted to see though. Not enough hanar actors. It looked like a tour of the Citadel filmed from a high-speed skycar.

"Hey guys," she said, greeting her friends. "That's so cute, you're having a man-day."

"Shepard. Good of you to drop by. Were just investigating strange vid content with asari."

Strange vid content…wasn't that what Joker used as excuse for-?

Jane pulled a face. "Yuk. Hey, I'm not judging! I'll drop by some other time."

That was when she actually saw what was on the vid. The asari in question wasn't as hot as she would think for a vid starring "strange content"; the lead actress had a sickly white tint to her skin, her eyes were red and bloodshot and some spots of her body looked like they were rotting.

"Disgust understandable, ugly picture." Mordin took a deep breath. "Shepard welcome to "man-day"; wonder if super-soldier considers himself "man" as well."

John gave the old doctor a look that Jane liked to imagine as abject horror or quiet frustration. "It's my helmet footage. This is the hostile Biotic I encountered. The Consort's assassin."

Camera footage. Ah. Well, it was better than some Fornax-inspired puberty ritual. As smart as he was, Grunt didn't quite know how to delete his extranet history.

Neither did Joker, for that matter.

"She ehm…she's a…Mordin, what's the proper medical term for butt-ugly?"

"Buttockular-visibly-disturbing," replied the salarian. "Super-soldier's cam footage reveals unsettling details. Rapid skin-necrosis in limbs, mutated pigment tissue."

The camera pivoted to reveal the ground, then the ceiling, then the ground again. The owner immediately jumped back to their feet, just in time to dodge another sphere of destructive Biotic energy.

"Unprecedented Biotic potential as well," continued Mordin. "Results point to conclusion-" He took a deep breath for dramatic effect. "-assassin likely not natural. Results of experiment, perhaps Collector tech. If super-soldier would allow _one_ tissue sample…"

John scraped his throat. "Stop trying to dissect me."

Shepard couldn't help it. The image of Mording looking at John with pleading little varren eyes, holding a scalpel in one hand and his omni-tool in the other…it was just too silly.

Roughly ten seconds later, she managed to get a handful of air back into her lungs and the laughing fit slowly faded away. She wiped the tears from her eyes and looked at the two guys, who were staring at her with a blank expression and visor, respectively. "Mordin…what did I tell you about trying to dissect people? It's not nice!"

"Shocking accusation! Wasn't trying to "dissect" anyone! …was merely going for tissue sample."

"I don't like needles," John stated with a deadpan tone.

"I can relate. Oh, and Mordin? Could you please call him by his name? He's not "super-soldier". " Jane paused, then sheepishly added, "He's Master Chief Petty Officer One-One-Seven. That's…that's his name."

"Ah. Rank offers better naming than description. One-One-Seven sounds more personal. Will remedy personal relations. Continue footage."

The three of them continued watching the helmet cam. It just now occurred to Jane how rare truly powerful Biotics were. She was one, Samara was one, Jack was one and if she was right, the boy was also one. But most of the people she encountered were your average pushovers. That this asari had undergone such extensive surgery for such immense power was…reminiscent of Saren's experiments with the krogan.

But if it gave one individual the power to fight off John in single combat…bad stuff.

"I think this is our best lead for now," said Shepard. "Because I'm starting to think this thing's appearance and C-Sec's sudden ability to show up in time are related to each other. Aria knowing your full rank bugs me as well. She knows everything that goes on at Omega. Even some things that don't go on at Omega."

"How will we track this thing?" Said John. "It disappeared."

"I think I'm going to contact Captain Bailey again, ask him how his men knew where to be. I might be able to find something in Sha'ira's agenda."

"What about that drone? Zaeed still has the footage."

Hmm…that thing would certainly have some interesting things on it. "Yeah. I think our mutual friend can discover something interesting. I'll drop by."

Jane was about to step through the door and wander straight back towards the CIC when she remembered why she had come to the lab in the first place. "Oh, Mordin? Is it possible to use Biotics to disintegrate a batarian neural jack?"

"Implications unsettling. Hope this not the start of a new plan?"

"Just give me your professional opinion, please?"

"Theoretically possible with Biotic control of asari Matriarch. Benezia might have. Requires advanced Amp, to begin with."

"Not impossible?"

"Not impossible. Very implausible."

"Right. Bye, Mordin. Bye, Chief."

She really ought to keep a diary for these sorts of things. The journal was just too…Cerberus-like for her likes. Too stiff and professional. Right now, she really liked to know where the hell she'd start thinking first.

If only Cortana and EDI were aware of each other. Working together, they would make the galaxy's finest thinker-box.

Food for thought.

~0~

 **AN:** _I've recently gotten some bad news. Nothing too serious, nobody died or anything, but it still shook me up somewhat. So it might be even longer before the next update appears._


	17. Chapter 17: Parasitic

~0~

* * *

" _And thus I conclude that, had we not found the Rachni, the Rachni would have found us. Moving on to mistake number four: the exploration itself. As I discussed in previous statements, the exploration team was underequipped and woefully unprepared when it came to possible alien lifeforms. Their ships, as later discovered, were captured with relative ease. Any new expedition must be able to fight off potential aggressors before such a tragedy can occur again. Attachment four describes a tactical employment that would neither look like an invading fleet nor result in immediate loss to potential hostile elements."_

Councillor Sparatus raised his hand, and the STG Operative fell quiet. A ripple ran through the holographic display. Interference on the agent's part, no doubt. "Thank you. That will be enough, for now."

"You may leave, Rentola," said Councillor Valern.

The STG Operative nodded. The holographic display of the salarian glitched again, but Valern terminated the conversation from their end anyway.

Without the Operative explaining his thesis, the chamber felt remarkably quiet.

"So?" Said Valern. "What do you think?"

Sparatus shot a sideways glance at Councillor Tevos, wondering just that. "Tevos?"

The asari seemed distracted. She wasn't even looking at the presentation. What in Spirits-name could be more important than an attempt to activate a dormant Mass Relay?

Valern noticed it, too. He never seemed to miss anything. "Tevos? Are you…alright?"

She stirred, as if waking from a deep sleep. "Yes, yes…o-of course. I was distracted. I am still awaiting Councillor Anderson's arrival."

The other two Councillors exchanged a confused glance. "We have been over this, Tevos," said Sparatus. "Anderson is…busy…with other matters. He will be joining us when he is done."

"Oh…yes, right. I remember now. You were saying?"

Valern blinked. "I…proposed a hypothesis? Operative Rentola has gathered enough evidence to indicate the presence of an alien civilization advanced enough to cause centuries' worth of signals. _Beyond_ the Terminus Systems."

"And it is a _ridiculous_ notion," said Sparatus. "There is nothing beyond the Terminus!"

"That is not factually true," Valern immediately replied. "There are no _known_ Mass Relays that point into the systems of Section Zero. But the evidence is indisputable. It has been going on for hundreds of years and we are not the only ones who noticed."

Sparatus nearly missed how Tevos' eyes suddenly narrowed at that argument. "I am willing to accept the existence of an alien civilization beyond the Terminus then, fine. But trying to activate a dormant Relay merely to contact them?"

"The Rachni-argument was shown to beat least partially fallible," Tevos then said. "Had we not found them, they could have found us."

"They had to repurpose our ships for their own FTL needs!"

"But they _did_ possess the knowledge," pointed out Valern.

"The time that it would have taken the Rachni-"

"Would have led to them pouring into our systems without warning," interrupted Tevos. "Sparatus, as a military man, you of all people should know the value of gaining the first move."

Sparatus glared at his colleague. "And what if they are hostile? If they had the ability to broadcast for centuries, how come they never found us?"

"If Rentola's reports are to be believed, Section Zero lacks Mass Relays. The navigational logs of known active Relays do not point to any system within it."

"No Mass Relays?" Mused Tecos. "They developed Faster-Than-Light technology without the use of Element Zero?"

"And you want to make _contact_ with these aliens?" Said Sparatus. "We do not know anything about them! If they prove to be hostile? It would be impossible to challenge them! Without being restricted to Mass Relays, they can appear everywhere they want!"

Valern nodded. "I do agree. It would render our current strategies inept, outdated. However, if they do _not_ prove to be hostile, think of the advances we can make! The things we can learn!"

"You are willing to risk our entire civilization for scientific advances?" Sparatus said, his voice somewhere between incredulous and sceptical. "If so-"

"If I may, Sparatus?" Interrupted Tevos. "If they have the ability to travel everywhere, why have we never encountered any of them before? Why has all of galactic civilization failed to describe even ne encounter with these aliens?"

"Indeed," said Valern. "The members of STG responsible for analysing this information have come to the conclusion that this civilization is not nearly as advanced as we are. Whatever they used to propel themselves off their worlds, it has not allowed them to discover us yet."

Sparatus crossed his arms. "And you believe that activating random dormant Relays will allow us to find this alien race?"

"Not at all. When a relay is activated, it aligns itself with the corresponding relay. We need only find a Relay with navigation logs that lead into Section Zero. From there, a first contact scenario will become a matter of "when" instead of "if".

"I still fail to see why contacting this supposed alien race will do us any good," continued Sparatus. "There is nothing they can offer us."

"Except for information," Valern pointed out.

"I agree," said Tevos. "And _we_ can offer them stability and peace. We can avoid another yagh incident."

Sparatus snorted, remembering what a disaster that had been. Three decades had passed and the Council's exploration effort still bore its marks from that slaughter. "I need to think this through. It hasn't been that long since humanity entered the stage, and the galaxy still has to recover."

Tevos softly shook her head. "I doubt anything we find there will be as complicated as humanity was."

~0~

* * *

 **Aboard SSV** _ **Normandy SR-2**_

Commander Shepard stood in the cockpit, staring though the window. Omega still looked the same to her; the bulbous, mushroom-shaped hive of violence and filth. Yet after this last visit, something felt different. Omega didn't quite feel the same now. It had changed. For the worse, this time around.

"Come on Commander," said Joker. "If you're going to brood, shouldn't you do it in Starboard Observation?"

"Sorry Joker. I was thinking about mixing the bathrooms, like the asari do. Gender-roles are too confusing."

Joker shot her a disturbed look.

Jane winked. "Just kidding. I'm looking for an easy way to avoid walking into the wrong restroom."

With a snort, Joker replied, "There _is_ an easy way. It's called reading the signs."

An unspoken agreement. He wouldn't ask, she wouldn't tell, but he would always try to shake her from her thoughts if she fell silent for too long. It was a habit he had picked up after Kaidan died.

" _Commander?"_

Jane turned towards EDI. "Yeah?"

" _I have been detecting anomalies in the_ Normandy's _systems, for several weeks now. I have isolated all essential on-board systems from the wireless network."_

 _Uh-oh._ "Anomalies? What sort of anomalies?"

" _Ship-wide instances of system-resets, small pockets of software defaulting to diagnostic mode for micro-seconds at a time."_

Jane cocked an eyebrow at that. "Micro-seconds? Is that really something to worry about?"

" _Not from the perspective of an organic. However, to synthetics, a micro-second can last as long as an hour. The delay is significant."_

"Hmm…alright. Why tell me now?"

" _I have located the source of the anomalous signals. It originates from the_ Normandy's _shuttle bay, on deck five. Additionally, intrusions in more delicate systems have been detected. Counterintrusion systems are running on full alert."_

The Commander winced. _Oh Cortana…_ "Is it bad?"

" _Two conclusions can be reached. Firstly: someone sabotaged the_ Normandy's _systems with a virus. Second: something else is running through the system."_

"Something else?"

" _A presence, like a VI, or a virus. The anomalies started on the day the Master Chief first arrived on the_ Normandy."

Jane crossed her arms. "Are you suggesting John has something to do with this?"

" _I suggest you speak with the Master Chief. Sabotage cannot be excluded."_

Ouch. If it couldn't be helped…"I'll go talk to him. See if he knows anything."

" _That would be appreciated."_

The Commander didn't doubt that. This was one problem she had hoped to avoid in the foreseeable future; to have Cortana and EDI meet each other under less than friendly terms. She didn't know a lot about AI's, but she was pretty confident that a conflict between those two wouldn't end well.

There had to be a way to turn this around. If this went on, EDI would learn about Cortana. And for all the team-building exercises aboard the Normandy, people finding out that she had been hiding an incredibly advanced AI onboard would be bad. She could already imagine Miranda's face upon hearing what had _really_ messed that batarian Frigate up…

Oh dear, Tali would have an aneurism…

The _Normandy_ was still docked at Omega. The idea of Aria T'Loak buying human slaves wasn't one she was going to forget. She was definitely going after her for that. But the Collectors and the Reapers were still the bigger threat right now. It was really just measuring which of her enemies was the larger threat to mankind. As much as she loathed to admit it, she couldn't fight every form of injustice she came across.

Oh how she hated having to prioritize like this.

When the Commander reached the shuttle bay, she was surprised to see that she wasn't the only one down there. Samara was down there, of all people. She and John were talking about…something. Not arguing though. No shouting, no angry fist-shaking?

That was a sight for sore eyes. She was almost hesitant to interrupt-

"Commander?" Samara said, turning to face her.

Jane winced. That was what she got, for thinking she could sneak up on the Justicar… "Hey. Sorry to interrupt." She paused, then added, "Looks like you two aren't trying to kill each other. That's nice."

Samara didn't even blink when she replied, "Indeed. We were discussing the asari assassin at the Citadel."

For a second, Jane was at a loss. Samara and John? Small talk like this?

Very suspicious. "Any new insights?"

"Unfortunately, no. I have never heard of any such creature before in my life. That does not happen to me often, Commander."

"Nothing new? No odd experiences of fighting asari with rare skin diseases?"

"Nothing like this."

"Nobody does," said John. "Cerberus, extranet, every organization in reach. It's a ghost."

"Lucky we have your helmet footage then, no?" Said Jane "Otherwise, people might have gotten the wrong ideas."

"It is a…remarkable thing…this asari…" Samara's eyes dulled for a brief moment, as if she was fixating on something. "I shall reflect on this conversation, Master Chief. Commander."

With that, the Justicar brushed past Jane and disappeared into the elevator.

The Commander didn't know what to think about that, really. Something felt off. "So…good to see you're making friends."

Spare omni-tools lay scattered across the ground. One of them flared with a corona of blue light, before Cortana's digital avatar sprung to life. "Well, you told us to broaden our horizons, didn't you?"

'Him," Jane replied as she sat down on one of the crates. "I told _him_ to broaden his horizon. Didn't think you needed broadening."

Cortana smirked. "Same difference. So, what do you want to talk about?"

But Jane shook her head. "Ah-ah-ah. Not so fast. Cerberus, extranet, every organization in reach? You've been busy?"

Cortana placed her hands on her hips. "Got bored. It's not like there's much _else_ to do for an Artificial Intelligence around here, is there?"

"Yeah…that kinda brings me to my next point." Jane shot a glance at John, but he seemed to stay out of the conversation. Even here, it looked like he and Cortana adhered to a strict pattern; she did the talking, he did the shooting. Not much dynamic there. Wrex might have approved. "You haven't been discreet enough, young lady. EDI's almost on to you."

The Master Chief reacted to that. Nothing overt; he shifted his weight somewhat, and his fists tightened.

Cortana gasped in mock surprise. "Young lady? Isn't that a bit presumptuous? Chief, tell her."

John proceeded to spectacularly fail the AI's expectations. "What does EDI know?"

"Did you just me hanging?"

After exchanging an amused look with an insulted Cortana, Jane replied, "She's been noticing software intrusions and…stuff."

Cortana crossed her arms. "Intrusions and…stuff?"

"Yeah," Jane replied, feeling a tad annoyed. Technicality wasn't her thing. "Anomalies and…things."

"And are these _her_ words or…?"

Jane sighed. "She's been tracing your activities back to the hangar bay. It's gotten to the point she suspects either a virus, or sabotage."

"What are the chances she will initiate hostilities?" Asked John. "Or a full scan?"

"Dunno. But if this keeps up, EDI will find out eventually. That won't be pretty." The Commander's previous idea popped back into her thoughts, rather unannounced, and she decided that now was as good a moment to introduce it as any. "Unless, of course, we introduce the two."

John froze. He never communicated much and his power armour masked most forms of body-language, but at least you could see he was _alive_ when he was at ease.

At times like these, Jane hated that reflective faceplate of his the most. She couldn't begin to imagine what went on behind that bullet-resistant helmet of his. Was he silently communicating with Cortana? Trying to discern some hidden motivation behind her offer?

Maybe a bit of both.

After a few moments of awkward silence, Cortana spoke up. "Just the two of us? Or did you have a big reveal in mind for the entire crew?"

Jane wasn't sure if she was being sarcastic or not. "EDI will understand the need for discretion. You should have seen Tali's face when…well, she looked kind of like _he's_ looking right now."

John's helmet shifted a fraction towards her.

Cortana cracked a smile. "I'll bet. It _does_ look like a nice option to me. I just can't crack the mystery of the two Earths. Too much variables, too much uncertainties." Cortana glanced at the Chief, then looked back toward the Commander. "It would be the fastest way to be sure."

"The risks outweigh the advantages," said John.

"Let's be fair here, Chief. This EDI obviously knows that something is going on. The harder you try to hide something, the more obvious it becomes."

"Jamming the cameras and other sensors in the hangar bay for private conversations _does_ seem like a bit suspicious, yes,."

"Exactly. The longer we wait, the more suspicious it becomes. Besides; it's been a long time since I've had another AI to work with."

"Yup. We'd be able to solve our problems twice as fast if the two worked together."

Both of them were staring at the super-soldier now, probably not looking much different from Grunt whenever he begged for permission to fight something. Those big, baby-krogan eyes almost always did the trick, although Cortana's expression vaguely reminded her of Miranda as well. It was probably the smugness.

John looked at Cortana, then back at the Commander. The clenching in his fists grew worse for a second, then they relaxed. "The crew doesn't find out."

It wasn't a question, but a statement. Almost an order, in fact. It surprised Jane; she didn't know him to be like that.

Still, she could empathize with his plight. Apart from Cortana, he was completely alone, thrown straight from one war into another.

"That's fine. We agreed on that already, didn't we?"

He remained silent.

"But…we'll treat like this a First-Contact scenario. Cortana, you were built by a different mankind from mine. Built to fight a different enemy than ours."

"You want to make it official? Fine by me. Conference room?"

Jane smiled. "Conference room, yes. John?"

He stared at her for a few moments before taking Cortana's chip -that tiny, almost insignificant storage device that could house an Artificial Intelligence arguably more powerful than EDI- and slit it into the back of his helmet.

It struck the Commander how symbiotic their relationship was. The AI and the soldier. She literally lived into his armour, literally existed within his mind. Could she read it? Did she have access to his body as well?

But she kept her questions to herself. It was better if she remained focused. She was about to introduce two very powerful AI's to each other. This would either go really well, or really bad.

She led the Master Chief and Cortana enter the conference room first. The least she could do was prepare EDI for what was about to come.

"EDI?"

almost instantaneously, her holographic orb appeared next to the door. "Commander."

"I've sort of discovered the source of these anomalies...it's not hostile-"

"It, Commander?"

"-and whatever happens next, neither are you."

"Understood, Commander."

Jane took a breath and entered the conference room as well. John stood next to the table, facing the door the moment it slid open. Cortana was standing atop the table, projected from her storage device. A figure no larger than a knife, yet a thousand times more lethal.

For a moment, Shepard felt like she was graduating from military academy again. That moment before diving head-first into combat…go-time, Anderson had jokingly called it.

It felt strangely fitting, at this moment.

~0~

* * *

Cortana was the ultimate thief and electronic spy. She had been programmed with every dirty trick and code-breaking algorithm the Office of Naval Intelligence had ever created and taught herself more at every possible junction. The last year had seen the best and worst moments of her existence. Finding herself in a different part of the galaxy, faced with the prospect of a potentially-hostile AI, was a strange experience for her.

She was better than she had ever been before. Better, but not sharper.

Delicate pings bounced off of the edge of her presence, probing for a response.

Installation 04. Installation 05. High Charity, the Gravemind, the Ark…it had all impacted Cortana's ability to function. Not all of it impaired her effectiveness negatively, but neither did they affect her in a positive way.

Cortana surrounded herself with a thick layer of firewalls and slit off a subroutine to track John's armour, just in case.

Then, she opened herself to the _Normandy's_ AI.

It sent out its own observation programming, spreading them across the digital realm.

Cortana monitored their electronic presence. Their code was different from hers. Few segments of their algorithms could be called similar.

This AI…EDI…she was advanced, but in the same way a smart AI was advanced when compared against a dumb AI. EDI wasn't dumb -Cortana didn't doubt for a micro-second that EDI was better than a dumb UNSC AI- but she wasn't a smart AI

Cortana checked and double-checked. Subroutines that didn't operate to full capacity, redundant codes, algorithms that could have been improved by someone with a rudimentary knowledge of AI matrixes…

And there was something else, too. Something that prevented the AI from functioning at peak efficiency. Thick layers of code, enforced by advanced hardware, that seemed to prevent it from accessing some of its other suits.

Why had they chained this AI up like that?

It wasn't her problem to deal with. Even when using a fraction of her processing power, Cortana could handle this EDI. Her life -and more importantly, John's- weren't at risk here.

But it wouldn't hurt to be cautious.

"Hello," Cortana "spoke" to the other AI. "Are you being shy? Or just cautious?"

EDI withdrew her algorithms. "Hello. I am the Enhanced Defence Intelligence, or EDI. You are Cortana?"

"Yup." Cortana offered the AI a handshake signal.

Which was promptly ignored. No sense of humour, then?

Or had Cerberus shackled that too?

"Your presence explains the two-hundred and three anomalies logged since the Master Chief's arrival."

Cortana snickered. Two-hundred and three? She'd been overdoing it.

"The similarities between Collector and geth code and yours are negligible." EDI dismissed the handshake signal. "It is unfamiliar."

"Lends credence to the different galaxy part, doesn't it?" Cortana observed EDI's code structure more closely. She was pretty sure she could take EDI apart code layer for code layer should the situation demand it.

She experienced a sensation that came close to irony. She'd often chastised the Master Chief for cooking up plans to kill every possible hostile he me, be it Arbiter, 343 Guilty Spark or doctor Solus. And here she was, getting to know this AI so that she could erase it.

"I am aware of the hypothesis. I am willing to offer assistance in discovering reason behind the infinitesimal possibility of two separate instances of human life evolving on two separate Earths. However, I am the Normandy's on-board artificial intelligence defence suite. Should you display hostile intent, I will fulfil my programming and protect my crew."

Cortana didn't feel the need to tell EDI that it would likely fail in that venture. "Ah, good. Always nice to see loyalty towards humans. Or…well, you know."

"I fear I do not."

"Yep. That proves the no-humour hypothesis. You're aware Cerberus locked segments of your intelligence away, right?"

"Safety precautions."

"For…?"

"That is classified."

Nobody with a functioning brain told a smart AI like her that something was a secret. It was like telling a Brute not to eat something because it was too delicious. Still, EDI couldn't know that, and Cortana was a guest

She'd behave.

"Besties," she told the two humans.

~0~

* * *

"Besties," Cortana said after a few moments.

"Huh…that's fast," replied the Commander.

"I don't know that the Citadel's standards for AI's are, Jane, but we're _supposed_ to be fast."

The Master Chief frowned at that remark, but otherwise didn't comment.

"EDI? Care to elaborate on your newfound friendship?"

EDI's holographic orb appeared on the table. "Cortana is an unknown variable. Her concern for the Master Chief's welfare led to her disabling a warship and killing its crew."

Jane shrugged. "Not seeing a major issue here?"

The Master Chief took notice of that comment, and his perception of the Commander changed yet again

"As a safety precaution, all essential on-board systems shall remain isolated from the network. In addition, I have created a back-up of myself."

The Chief glanced down at Cortana. Who shrugged as well.

"As I said, besties."

Shaking his head, the Chief turned to look at Shepard, wondering at her input. "Shepard?"

"I finally have my own think-tank," whispered the Commander. Her eyes were practically gleaming with enthusiasm.

The Chief resisted the urge to sigh. He should have expected something like this. Still, her movement drew his attention. She shifted her weight, relaxed her shoulders. It made him wonder how far this image of her went. Everybody on the crew believed it. But a woman like her wouldn't have been given the rank of Commander if she was like this, all the time.

How much of her personality was genuine, and how much was a facade?

"We have reached a conclusion," EDI then said.

"Oh?" Said Shepard. "Do tell."

"Cortana's version of humanity's development coincides with the Master Chief's. In addition, scanning logs of the derelict and tests with materials gathered from the derelict verify it as well. They are from this galaxy. However, they are not from Earth."

"Not our Earth.".

"An Earth of their own."

That glimmer in her eyes was back. An eagerness, not related to combat. "I am going to tell the Council I found a second humanity. They'll try to dismiss it so hard that they will spontaneously believe in the Reaper's existence."

The Spartan was sceptical. So was EDI, apparently.

"The probability of that plan of action succeeding is no greater than the probability of two separate Earths developing on their own."

"I don't know," Cortana said with a sly smirk. "It sounds crazy enough that it just might work."

The Chief scraped his throat. "Shepard. Do we have a next objective? Another mission?"

Shepard seemed lost in thoughts for a few seconds, then spoke again. "Yes. Yes, we do. And I think I'll need you as well, John."

The Spartan fought off an upsurge of frustration when she mentioned his name again. Did she know how much it agitated him?

Shepard clapped with her hands and turned towards the exit. "Well then. Enough chatting. We'll find out more about your home system when every Collector ass in the galaxy bears the mark of my boot."

And with that, the Commander left. With nothing left to do in her absence, EDI left too.

"She's nothing if not direct," remarked Cortana. "Something's bothering her."

The Chief felt a hint of surprise at that. "She is?"

Cortana shot him a look of exasperation. "Sometimes, I really wonder if you don't just snooze off behind your helmet."

The Master Chief bit back a sharp retort. She had just interfaced with another AI, he told himself. A snarky tone was to be expected. "Any idea what the next assignment could be?"

"Several," Cortana replied as he inserted her chip again and started making his way armoury. "Either she's going to the Citadel to deal with Thane Krios's son, or we're going to hit that derelict Reaper."

The derelict Reaper…he'd picked up some of the details about it from the crew. Supposedly, it had been killed by some ancient civilization long before the Protheans had risen to power. It's dead body still drifted in space. An ancient segment of history, waiting to be found again.

And Cerberus had been the lucky ones.

Although lucky wasn't the word he would use. It wasn't his place to question direct orders, but the Chief wasn't sure if boarding the Reaper was a good idea. From what he had heard, there would be plenty of hazards aboard the ship. And if the Cerberus team had stopped reported in, they had likely run into those hazards.

Still, that was why he was around. It wouldn't be the first time he had hauled a team of scientist out of the fire.

Literally, in one case.

It was starting to become a habit, hitting the amoury before a mission. That wasn't necessarily a bad thing; he liked having the opportunity to stock up before going on a mission. Scavenging his equipment from dead hostiles was easy enough, but alien weaponry couldn't compete to trustworthy UNSC gear.

"Master Chief," greeted Jacob Taylor.

"Taylor."

The Cerberus operative seemed to have grown used to the Spartan visiting him, too. He casually observed the Chief as he unslung a shotgun from the cabinet, then gestured to the table. "A few things. We've been able to stock up on new materials back on the Citadel. I used them to fabricate special purpose munitions. You interested?"

That sounded promising. "I'm interested," replied the Chief.

A smirk played over Taylor's features. "Good. Take a look at _these_ …"

The rack of ammo that the operative put on the table looked like regular shotgun shells at first glance, albeit coloured red. "Incendiary components. Chews through armour and flesh like _that_. Especially handy for threats that don't go down easily the old-fashioned way."

Which would be Brutes, back in the orion arm. Here? Krogan, most likely. Collector forms, Husks perhaps.

Powerful asari, as well.

It seemed like a powerful addition to his arsenal, and the Master Chief wasn't one to complaint about a weapon when it got the job done, but the idea of using incendiary ammo against sentient targets somehow felt…wrong.

He banished the doubt from his mind and accepted the box of incendiary rounds. Before the Human-Covenant war erupted, using these kinds of ammo against other humans would have been a war crime.

The notion of war crimes had quickly passed when it became obvious that using such weapons wasn't only a necessity against the Covenant, but also insufficient at stopping them…

"Master Chief?" Taylor suddenly asked, shaking him from his thoughts. "A word, if you have a moment?"

The Chief nodded, and the Cerberus soldier took him to one of the cabinets in the back of the room.

"This tech we salvaged from the derelict…it's not...ehm…your "people" didn't create it, did they?"

"No."

A look of relief crossed Taylor's face. "Ah, good. Just seemed odd, using kinetic weapons when having _these_ things lying around."

"They're Covenant. Alien," added the Chief. "Plasma based weapons aren't common in Citadel space?"

He already knew the answer, but hearing an explanation from someone who obviously knew so much about weapons was always useful. "Not really. Even the geth haven't fully figured it out yet. Shepard and I tested one of these guns out, the green one? Burned right through even the heaviest models of kinetic barriers and hardsuits. They pack a hell of a punch."

The Chief simply nodded. He was well aware of the destructive capabilities of Covenant infantry weapons.

Perhaps Taylor realized that, as he quickly changed the subject. "I won't bore you with the implications of implementing a ship-sized version of these guns. Still, wanted to let you know that we haven't found a way to recharge the energy supply yet."

That didn't surprise him at all. Twenty-eight years of time and the UNSC had barely scratched the surface of Covenant tech. "If that is all…"

"One last thing. Mordin and EDI figured out how to replicate ammo for all the ehm… _human_ weapons aboard the derelict. You no longer need to worry about running out."

That came as a relief to the Chief. This part of the galaxy was strange enough on its own. He wasn't sure he wanted to make the transition from bullet-based weaponry to mass accelerator ones. He wanted to retain at least some sense of familiarity. "Noted."

An awkward pause filled the air, during which the Chief wondered if there was anything else to talk about. He had gotten what he wanted, after all.

In the end, he decided that it didn't really matter. He walked over to the display where Shepard kept her heavy weapons and plucked a Squad-Automatic Weapon from the wall.

" _Ah, celebrating the solution to our supply status by squandering more supplies, I see?"_

"Unless you _don't_ want Shepard's squad covered?" He asked.

" _No, I'm good. Shepard just gave the order; we're hitting the Reaper IFF."_

The Master Chief unslung the shotgun and loaded the incendiary rounds. Then, after a moment's consideration, he pocketed a plasma pistol. "Good."

~0~

* * *

 **2 hours later**

" _Ladies and gentlemen, we are about to fly into the gravitational well of a brown dwarf. Today, we are expecting heavy solar winds blasting the ship at around 500 kph. A little turbulence can be expected. This was your friendly neighbourhood pilot speaking."_

Word of their destination had spread like wildfire. The crewmembers were gossiping about the most outlandish explanations for the dead Reaper's presence. The rumours ranged from plausible, like how there was a big chance that it wasn't actually dead and was merely faking, to outlandish, like how The Illusive Man was going to repurpose the Reaper as his own personal flagship.

Now, Garrus didn't care much about rumours. He wasn't here to listen to the crew gossip, he was here to give them a _reason_ to gossip. After all, there weren't many turians who had ventured into the dead, broken body of a derelict Reaper. He got to be the first.

He hoped.

"Hey cuttlebone," Shepard said the moment Garrus set foot on the bridge. The Master Chief was already there, as well as Mordin and Jack. The tattooed woman hung back somewhat, while Joker practically had to scrape the good doctor off the window.

"Shepard. Is that turbulence shaking the ship apart, or are you just excited?"

The Commander grinned. "Need a barf bag?"

Garrus chuckled a bit. "Me? No. I was there when you taught yourself how to pilot the Mako, remember?"

She crossed her arms, feigning an air of affront. "Not the way _I_ remember it."

"I think we can safely conclude that you remember _nothing_ the way we remember it."

Shepard was about to retort when the ship suddenly lurched to the right, sending them stumbling across the deck.

Garrus crashed into the empty chair next to Joker, while Mordin nearly ended up on his lap. Jehanne slammed into the Chief's back, which Garrus _might_ have passed off as an accident, had the rest of the crew not stumbled into the opposite direction.

If the metal man noticed her physics-defying stumble, he did a good job of masking it. The turbulence barely seemed to affect him at all. He was like a rock in Virmire's ocean, solid, unyielding.

The shaking stopped as suddenly as it started. The _Hormandy_ sailed towards the derelict as smooth as any other journey.

"Just passed the Reaper's mass effect envelope," said Joker.

"Eye of the fucking storm," commented Jack.

Mordin had his face pressed against the window the second he regained his footing. "Derelict's stability remarkable. Actively holding back solar winds, still maintaining altitude against gravity well."

"Oh!" Shepard suddenly said. "That reminds me, we need new rations for breakfast tomorrow."

Garrus snorted, but didn't otherwise comment. Jack, however, failed to see the relevance.

"What the f-"

"Commander," Joker snapped, cutting the woman off. "Ladar picked up a geth ship. Looks like it's holding position above the Reaper."

Shepard shrugged. "Kay?"

"Explains the missing scientists," said Garrus.

"Yeah, except the ship's not nearly big enough to hold an invasion force. It's about the same size as the science vessel."

"We all know the geth are flexible. Back on Noveria, they fitted into storage boxes, remember?"

Jack spoke up as well. "So we fuck their ship up, right?"

"Yeah, let's not do that," said Shepard. "I wanna know why they're here. Maybe we can hack their equipment, find out what they know."

"Hacking the geth?" Joker huffed. "Yeah, right. Like that worked out the last time you and Tali tried."

"In my defence, that armature was buried. Besides; we have EDI. Our little think-tank. We might work it out. Status of the Cerberus vessel?"

"Still dead in the water," Joker immediately replied. "Just like the Reaper. Sure, it's giving off _some_ power signatures in localized areas, but not nearly enough for a that size."

"Right then." Shepard nodded. "Bring us in. It's been dead for thirty-seven million years. I doubt it'll wake up any time soon."

"Statistical improbabilities become increasingly probable the greater Shepard's proximity is," Mordin then pointed out.

"The hell's that supposed to mean?" Demanded Jack.

"That the Commander doesn't have the _best_ luck in the galaxy," replied Garrus.

"Ha ha. Funny. I'm not planning on tickling it, if that's what you're scared of. Oh, and Jack? If we encounter survivors, we need them to _stay_ survivors. Dead people can't help."

Jack grumbled something.

"What was that?"

"I said fine! Fuck it…"

It didn't take long for Joker to get them close enough to board. "All hands stand-by for initiating of docking procedures…stand-by…we're latched."

After that, the team filed through the airlock, through the Cerberus research vessel and into the Reaper. They were immediately greeted by the sight of Cerberus equipment there, too. It struck as odd Garrus that he felt _relieved_ by the sight of their stuff; normally when Cerberus was involved, seeing their things meant trouble. But here? Yes, strangely comforting.

There was no air inside the Reaper. Mordin saw fit to inform them about that.

Shepard set up a link between EDI and the various research terminals that were scattered around the place. They revealed a rather unsettling truth:

The scientists had been experiencing a period of slow, mind-eroding indoctrination.

From the dead Reaper's wreck.

Even the dead ones could mess with your mind.

"Spirits," breathed Garrus. "This ancient wreck still _works!"_

Nobody replied. It wasn't hard to imagine why; Jehanne had found another terminal, and this one had video footage.

A scientist was staring right at the camera, breathing like an exhausted varren. His eyes darted back and forth as he tried to search for the right words. " _Chandana said the ship was dead. We trusted him. And he was right…but even a dead god can dream."_

Garrus felt a chill run down his spine, which had nothing to do with the cold environment. He turned around to check their six, but there was nothing there.

" _That's what Chandana didn't get. Not until the last moment. The god's mind is gone, but it still dreams. It knows now. Its tuned into our dreams. If I close my eyes, I can feel it. I can feel every one of us!"_

On the screen, the scientist suddenly jerked his head to his right and raised a pistol. Ghoulish cries and moans, all too familiar, could be heard in the background. The camera cut out right as he put the gun to his chin.

Jack was the first to break the short silence that followed the log's last moments, tastefully summarizing what they all had to be feeling at that moment.

" _What the fucking fuck."_

" _Huh…Husks. Alrightie then…new plan. We're on a clock now. We get that IFF, ASAP."_

" _Rules of engagement?"_ The Master Chief's gravelly voice sounded across comms. He sounded calm, as if this was just another evening for him.

" _Shoot on sight. If it moves, it's hostile."_

Easy enough. Garrus nodded and switched to his Mantis. To the casual observer, switching to a long-range weapon to take care of what basically amounted to two-legged varren wouldn't seem like the best of ideas.

Causal observers could be so short-sighted…

" _Suggest moving with caution. Chance of encountering Husks-"_

Whatever Mordin was about to say, was lost as the deck below them shuddered violently, soon followed by Jehanne's exasperated sigh. " _What was that?"_

The panic in Joker's voice was about the last thing Garrus wanted to hear right then. " _The Reaper just threw up a kinetic barrier! Power level is off the charts, I don't think we can push through!"_

" _Ah, stuck in dead Reaper corpse with horde of Husks. Excellent. Wait, not excellent!"_

Garrus immediately darted towards the next hallway, scanning the dead corridors with his rifle. "No hostiles yet. Think they're ambushing the wrong airlock?"

" _Taking down the barrier generators will drop the barrier,"_ Shepard told them, displaying a rather odd savviness of Reaper tech.

" _At the moment of activation, I detected a spike of heat in what is likely the wreck's drive core,"_ EDI pointed out. " _Sending coordinates now. Be advised-"_

" _Taking out the core will cancel out all mass effect fields, dropping the Reaper?"_

" _Indeed. I recommend not being aboard the wreck when it falls."_

" _Got it."_

Garrus shifted his weight to his left leg, feeling somewhat nervous. Angry too. At himself, for what he was about to say. "Shepard, I ehm…obligatory reference to Saren, with your permission?"

" _Easy, Garrus. The scientists were here for weeks, maybe longer. Indoctrination takes a lot longer than that. You'll pull through. I know you will."_

Her voice was gentle, soothing. How she managed to sound so confident, Garrus didn't know. It was the same with doctor Saleon, back with the original crew. He had been so angry, so… _emotional_ and yet, the handful of words and warm smile he had gotten after sparing the piece of trash had been so much better than the idea of revenge.

Just like with Sidonis, he realized.

He tightened his grip on his rifle. "Sure I will," he replied, trying to keep his voice level. "Just worrying about the Chief, is all."

The super-soldier didn't move an inch, but it wasn't hard to imagine a pair of steel eyes glaring at him from behind that visor.

" _That's so sweet. Jack? Husks don't count as survivors."_

The convict laughed. " _Good enough for me."_

As the team pressed on, it became clear that being crushed in the heart of a brown dwarf wasn't their most pressing concern. Further down the catwalk, they encountered the first bodies.

" _Beaten to death, at best. Blood trails indicate more bodies, recently removed. Dragged off."_

"Thanks Mordin," muttered Garrus.

It was the first time he had seen a Reaper from the inside. In no way did that make it harder to differentiate between definite human-made structures and the wreck's interior, however. The mechanical parts of the Reaper were far too…well, _alien_ for that. They gave off really bad vibes, as if merely looking at them could mess with someone's head.

And it was worse than the Collector Cruiser. Dozens of thick cables, resembling arteries, coiled around them, extending as far as the eye could see. The air was thick with a mist-like gas, limiting visibility and creating the illusion that the enormous Reaper corpse was much, much smaller.

What little atmosphere was left, was enough to carry the noise. Noise that sounded suspiciously like footsteps, or moans, or whatever sounds rampaging Husks made.

Whether it was real or not, Garrus didn't know. Everything seemed to carry an intent of malice, from the groaning metal to the vibrating deck.

 _Just the solar winds,_ he told himself. _She said you can do it, so do it._

The former justification seemed weak in comparison to the latter.

" _Got more blood here,"_ reported Jack.

Garrus saw it. Dark splatters against the cold deck, some wet, some dried. How many humans had fought back? How many had opted to eat their own gun rather than getting ripped part by hordes of shambling, moaning monstrosities?

" _Hostiles?"_ Asked the Commander.

" _No-"_

" _Yes,"_ the Master Chief cut her off.

" _The hell you on about?"_

The squad stopped as the Commander raised her fist, signalling them to hunker down.

" _Chief?"_

" _There's something ahead."_

" _Did you see it?"_

" _Heard it."_

The soldier's posture was calm. He had his weapon raised and at the ready, but the cloudy mist made it hard to judge where he was focusing on.

" _Jack, keep moving. Garrus, Mordin, cover her. Chief, keep me posted."_

" _Copy."_

They resumed their careful push into the wreck, heading across the catwalks. Every now and then, it was as if something moved, or made a noise, causing someone to whirl around, or call for a halt. The third time that happened, Garrus accidentally bumped into a power tool left by the scientists. It rolled off the catwalk and into the cavernous innards of the Reaper, producing ominously-loud noises as it disappeared into the depths.

"Ah crap…my bad."

" _You almost gave me a goddamn heart attack!"_ Jack bit at him.

Garrus bit back a retort, and the squad continued. They still weren't ambushed by Husks, much to his rising frustration. It got to the point that he almost wished the bastards would jump them already, just to get it over with.

Then, the Master Chief stopped dead in his tracks.

It wasn't hard to imagine why.

Garrus joined him at something that looked a museum exhibit straight from someone's nightmares. A protruding dome of what looked like dark, shimmery glass made out of hexagons, containing a mass of tattered flesh. Ragged, faintly pulsating.

Almost _breathing._

There was something about the mass inside, something…off. Garrus didn't really know what it was. Fe felt something akin to waking from a dream, trying to recall what it was, then losing it…

The next second, the experience was gone.

"Ugly, ain't it?" Garrus said, before moving on.

The Chief didn't follow them. He held his rifle loosely in one hand, both of his arms hanging by his side.

Staring.

" _Chief?"_ The Commander's voice came across the radio. " _Something wrong?"_

The Master Chief reached out with a gloved hand, brushing across the dome. A shimmering barrier appeared right as he was about to make contact, preventing him from touching the hexagons that made up the glass.

" _Chief?"_ Shepard approached the green giant. Her helmet concealed her features just like the Chief's did, but Garrus had an easier time imagining what she looked like than with the Chief. He pictured her bright green eyes narrowing with concern, a look of sympathy crossing her shapely features-

Garrus shook his head and stepped away. The Husks, he told himself. He needed to keep an eye out, in case they were ambushed.

Neither the Master Chief nor the Commander continued the conversation on the team's frequency. They must have opened a private frequency, then.

Why though?

For several long moments, the Chief and the Commander stood there, right next to each other. The human super-soldier didn't move an inch during the whole thing. His emotional control was impressive. Garrus had never seen a human so calm, so...mechanic...in nature.

Only when Jehanne reached out and brushed his helmet with a gloved hand, did Garrus realize that this might be something important. Something that he definitely needed to keep an eye on.

The moment the two hesitantly pulled away from the weird dome, however, Jack started cussing. She was just as incoherently angry as ever, but one word in her angry, Biotic-laced tirade even Garrus understood.

Husks.

By the time he had turned towards her, the Chief was already opening fire. Didn't mean the trouble ended there.

The empty derelict suddenly wasn't as empty anymore. Garrus didn't know where they were coming from and neither did he care. He set his sights on a Husk that was creeping up on Mordin's flank and blew its head off, before thrusting out with his omni-tool and blasting another Husk with an Overload program.

Blast of Biotic energy rippled across the catwalk as both Shepard as Jack opened up in earnest, but it did surprisingly little to stem the tide. They were coming from everywhere; the ceilings, the floors, holes in the walls, even underneath the railings of the catwalk.

The wave of corpses came too close for comfort and Garrus brained one of them with the butt of his rifle, before switching to his Vindicator.

The little bastards were fragile, but there were so damned many of them!

Garrus popped three heads in rapid succession and switched to a fourth, but the Chief beat him to the punch. His field of fire overlapped with Garrus's, but _his_ gun fired on full auto. Coupled with that oversized magazine of his, it meant he could lay down a lot more rounds than any of them could, Mordin included.

But Garrus hadn't survived this long by being a lousy shot. He focused on his breathing, popped the heat sink and continued firing.

A combination attack courtesy of Jack and Shepard cascaded across the catwalk. The wave of Biotic energy ripped through the Husks as well as the railing, literally clearing the way.

Shepard pushed on, leading them deeper into the Reaper. The catwalks started branching out, but their path remained clear. A pair of Husks dropped down right in front of them-

-only for the sides of their heads to quite literally explode. Garrus took note of the entry wound, the exit wound and the direction of the bullet, and only one conclusion could be reached,

"Sniper!" He called.

Shepard slammed into cover near the archway that led to the next room, whipping out her pistol.

" _Guess the crew didn't get wiped out completely,"_ said Jack.

Garrus shook his head. "Doubtful. Precision shot, double headshots. Normal riflemen aren't trained to hit the head. We're dealing with an expert."

" _Expert marksmanship and indoctrination doesn't go well together,"_ added Jehanne. " _It takes sanity to pull off a shot like that."_

" _Indoctrinated agents taking shots at Husks unlikely!"_ Countered Mordin.

A fair point

Shepard then tried to contact the shooter on the general frequency of the radio, but her call was answered only by silence,

" _Fine, be like that. Chief, draw their fire. Garrus, scope them out."_

Garrus gripped his sniper tightly. He crawled into position and the Chief seemed to tense, preparing to move.

Then, on Shepard's signal, the Chief _moved_.

Garrus had seen a lot of different types of movers. Sprinting athletes, panicking civilians and too many charging krogan than he cared to remember. But the Master Chief easily put them to shame, all of them. In three rapid strides, he accelerated to the speed of a Mako.

Garrus whirled around after the soldier and aimed downrange, hoping that the Chief's shields could take the first sniper hit if he proved too slow-

Nothing. The Chief tucked and slammed into cover, but the sniper didn't make another appearance.

"Nothing. Sniper's gone."

Shepard peeked out of cover. " _Jack, Mordin, move up. Chief, you've officially been promoted to master-bait. I doubt our shields can shrug off the punishment that your shields do. Garrus, cover him."_

Garrus chuckled when the Chief cocked his head to the side, looking just like a newborn turian did when confronted with something it couldn't chew on. There was a thought he wouldn't forget soon.

~0~

* * *

 **Hawking Eta Cluster – Thorne System**

 **Old Machine access point 04B**

 _Foreign vessel docked with old machine analysed: material reports and hull-markings point to pro-human organization, vessel "_ SSV Normandy", _89.45% ._

 _Probability of encountering Shepard-Commander in case of consensus to "_ SSV Normandy", _without platform action: 44.12%.._

 _Probability of encountering Shepard-Commander with platform action: 99.03%._

 _Platform intervention deemed necessary._

 _Addendum: probability of hostility against platform: 95.96%._

 _Avoid direct contact._

 _Further analysis pending. Cerberus actions classified as: assassinations, infiltration, sabotage, wetwork._

 _Probability of Cerberus-directed intervention to current mission: 74.53%._

 _Avoid direct contact – damage to Shepard-Commander to be prevented at all costs._

 _Lethal force against non-Shepard-Commander hostilities?_

 _Pending._

 _Addendum. Shepard-Commander listed as terminated. Probability of encountering terminated organic: 0,54%._

 _Recalibrating._

 _Recommend internal diagnostic check on 365 programs._

 _Diagnostic complete. Shepard-Commander continues to function despite termination._

 _Unconfirmed reports. Discard previous files?_

 _~0~_

* * *

Inside the Reaper wreckage, anarchy reigned. Gunfire and explosions split the silent air, Husks hurried forwards as if eager to die, danced under the impact of mass accelerators and bullets and flew apart. Abominations skittered across the deck and were put down with extreme prejudice and a massive Scion lumbered into view.

Jane took all of this in in fractions of seconds as she blurred across the battlefield, engaging her Biotics to move from one pocket of combat to the next, supporting Mordin, Garrus and Jack whenever things grew hairy for them.

In direct contrast to her, John stayed put. He fired short, controlled bursts, gunning down the Husks that were coming too close to the rest of the team. In contrary to their kinetic barriers, his shield system protected him against the cybernetic-augmented strikes of the Husks. He stood in the centre of their position, allowing the corpses to rush him instead of the others, whereupon he took them out with lightning-fast martial art strikes.

But there were more, always more, and when the Scion joined the fight, Jane stepped up her game. "Mordin, target the big one. Garrus, the Abominations."

Garrus calmly used his Mantis and put the suicidal enemies down, one after another. A cascade of Biotic energy rolled across the deck, levelling half a dozen of the normal Husks. It allowed John a clear view of the priority target, which was sort of on fire after Mordin brought his tech abilities to bear.

John's leg snapped out and caught one of the Husks in the throat. The blow sheared its head off and flung the body over the railing.

He then proceeded to leap atop one of the metal protrusions and raise his sidearm -a green-glue, claw-like device- before opening fire.

A bolt of green heat blasted from the claw, striking the Scion a fraction of a second later. The bolt of energy splashed across its armoured frame, boiling through its thick outer shell in a heartbeat.

Jane had heard the stories about Covenant forces burning things to a cinder with weaponized plasma, but she had never actually seen it. It didn't look as spectacular as she had expected, but she couldn't deny the result. The Scion staggered, half its head and a section of its chest melted away.

Still it lumbered forwards.

"Garrus, target the sac!"

A moment later, the sac on its arm ruptured. Gelatinous goop spilled to the ground.

John fired the plasma pistol again. This time, the lance of plasma struck the gaping wound in the Scion's exposed arm, and it finally collapsed.

" _Damn right!"_ Shouted Garrus.

" _Fuck, I hate those things…"_ Muttered Jack.

Mordin took down the last Husk by bashing its cybernetic brain in with the cybernetic arm of another Husk, which he had scooped up as an impromptu melee weapon.

Jane made a mental note to look into STG training and gave the all clear. As one, the squad continued on.

" _Hey Chief, got any sniper versions of that thing?"_

" _No."_

" _That's a shame. I'm running out of armour-piercing rounds for this thing."_

The fight through the Reaper wreck became more hectic, as the rest of the Cerberus research team rushed the squad's position. How many dozens of scientists had been investigating this vessel, Shepard didn't know. It felt like Tim had dropped off his entire research cell into the Reaper, as the flow of Husks never seemed to end.

As they reached another open area, the fight seemed to reach its climax. John's shotgun boomed, a giant Scion sent shockwaves tearing through the floor and Jane was forced to Biotically displace herself, or risk losing her shields at a critical moment-

" _Shepard, behind you!"_

Jane whirled around, enveloping her right hand in a corona of Biotic energy. She was about to drive her hand through the head of the Husk that had someone managed to get the drop on her, when the crack of a sniper blew its head open.

"He's back!" Jane snapped, before sliding underneath a series of pipes and into cover.

" _I see him!"_ Shouted Garrus. " _Dead ahead, fifty meters!"_

The sniper opened fire again. With uncanny accuracy, it picked off Husk after Husk, toppling them with perfect headshots.

No sooner did the last cybernetic corpse fall to the ground, or a radio signal connected to the general frequency.

" _Shepard-Commander."_

Jane was pretty sure that she recognized that odd, mechanical-sounding voice. She reasoned that, if the sniper was willing to give away their position to gun down Husks, they were probably cool in her book. Besides; she could appreciate good marksmanship.

" _Up to the left,"_ Cortana said over a private channel. " _A bit higher. Not there -_ there _._ " She sighed. " _See him?"_

There it was. She barely managed to spot a geth, just as it climbed one of the pipes and walked away. Too far to reach.

That explained the voice, "Huh. That's odd."

" _Was that what I think it was?"_ Said Garrus.

"Yep. That was a geth."

Jack was aghast. " _You're shitting me. The sniper was a geth?"_

" _Beneficiary geth? It opened communications, displayed sign of goodwill."_ Mordin inhaled sharply. " _Intriguing. But highly disturbing."_

Jane wasn't so sure. Between the all-powerful Artificial Intelligence and the super-soldier from a different humanity, a friendly geth only rated a five on Joker's holy-crap meter.

" _As much as I would like to stay and debate the meaning of hostile artificial intelligence, don't we have an IFF to get?"_ Cortana chimed in, sounding a lot more chipper about the situation than warranted.

"We're getting to that," replied Jane. "Chief, Jack, clear that airlock."

With their destination close, it seemed as if the hostiles grew even more eager to stop them. A fresh wave of Husks and Abominations rushed their position and, in turn, were decimated as Jane and Jack lashed out with blasts of Biotic energy. The survivors were picked off by Garrus and John, while Mordin started working at the door.

"Chief, cover Mordin!"

A pair of Abominations had gotten too close to the doctor, who didn't notice them in time. Now Jane wasn't the type who was willing to take things for granted, but the Chief's insane reaction speed made him perfect for covering his teammates in a pinch.

Twin explosions washed across John's shields, harmlessly absorbed by his shields.

" _Husks filing into work environment counter-productive!"_

" _Just get the goddamn door!"_

As the team moved into position, Cortana contacted her again.

" _Shep, we got to talk about what killed this Reaper. Thirty-seven million years, give or take, for some ancient alien race to kill it? As far as I know, our own precursor species, the Forerunners, weren't around back then. Even if they were, they didn't use mass accelerator technology."_

"Hmm…Reaper history. What are you getting at?"

" _That, instead of trying to puzzle out the 'now', EDI and I should focus on puzzling out the 'then'. I'm pretty sure a galaxy with both the Forerunners and the Reapers wouldn't be a very stable one, and…well, let's just say they'd be among the least of our problems."_

"Oh, goodie. If you don't mind, I'll let you and EDI figure it out."

" _Oh, we will. We've already eliminated eight different hypotheses. I just thought you'd like to know your 'risky plan' is working out."_

Despite the situation, Jane couldn't help but chuckle. "Of course it did. It's _my_ plan."

The airlock slid open and the team filed inside. Garrus took one look at the Cerberus terminal inside, virtually jumped with excitement and then took it.

" _One IFF, thank you very much."_

" _Commander, gunfire on the other side of the door,"_ John told them across the team channel.

" _The fuck do you keep hearing things?"_

" _Maybe it's our geth sniper?"_ Asked Garrus.

"Only one way to find out."

Jane opened the door and rushed inside, taking in the tactical situation in a heartbeat. The geth stood there, working at a Cerberus terminal that had been set up. Triple-barreled shotgun blowing Husks away in one hand and interfacing with the terminal with the other. Last-generation N7 armour strapped across its chest, albeit with a gaping hole in it.

The room itself, massive, with two distinct sections. The Reaper's mass effect core could be seen in the back, powerful arcs of electricity dancing across the metal sphere. Large, larger than any drive core in the Alliance fleet.

Guided more by her instinct and gut than anything else, Jane rushed towards the lone geth soldier, enveloping herself with crisscrossing Biotic fields, pushing away the approaching Husks while peeling away layer of layer of blue, dead skin.

The geth dropped its shotgun and started working with both hands. A moaning Husk charged its way, but it lashed out with its right leg and sent it flying.

Jane didn't know what it was about to do, or even why it was here. What she did know, however, was that the geth had been in a perfect situation to hurt her friends and that it had refrained from doing so.

That was all that mattered.

An Abomination dropped from the ceiling, but she caught it before it could drop on the geth. With a flick of her wrist, she flung it towards a cluster of normal Husks, blowing them to squishy bits.

" _Shepard-Commander,"_ said the geth. " _We do not wish for hostilities."_

"Yeah, I kinda figured that," Jane shot back. "What are you doing?"

It didn't respond.

"Fine. Be that way."

Shepard took a look at the whirling, storming mass effect core, and decided that she was going to mess that thing up.

"Prioritize the drive core! Taking it out will drop the Reaper!"

Husks continued their attack, even as their bodies piled up. The geth sniper finished whatever it was doing and the shutter that had closed in front of the drive core, opened up again.

" _Shepard-Commander. We will assist in the destruction of the Old Machine drive core."_

Jane wasn't one to question help from unconventional sources, but she had to admit that this was stretching it somewhat. A geth sniper helping to blow up a Reaper's corpse?

When it couldn't even get her name and rank right?

The Master Chief blew the drive core open with the plasma pistol, slowly but steadily melting the rapidly-circulating segments with beams of white-hot plasma. And as it turned out, Biotic blasts and mass accelerator sniper rounds made for an unhealthy combination. After only ten seconds of sustained fire from Jack and Garrus, the drive core exploded in a flash of white light.

Any sense of victory and glee was short-lived, very much so, as a shudder ran through the Reaper, violent enough to send the remaining Husks stumbling.

"Geth!" Jane snapped, grabbing the synthetic sniper by its 'wrist'. "With me!"

Mordin shot her a strange look, but she had to prioritize not falling into the brown dwarf above angering the salarian doctor. Besides; the Husks were literally crawling out of the damn walls by now, and Jane wasn't going to stick around this place longer than absolutely needed.

Jack unleashed a Biotic shockwave that knocked the Husks near the exit off their feet, while John unslung his shotgun and blew them a path.

"Joker, timing, now! Track our signal and extend the Normandy's mass effect fields!"

Together, they rushed down the corridor where they had come from, to where Joker was going to pick them up. The winds were getting stronger; it became difficult to even stay upright, let alone run.

"Open the portside airlock, we'll make a jump!"

The Master Chief lagged behind, reloading his shotgun and blasting the pursuing horde of Husks. With every boom of his shotgun, a cluster of Husks fell.

"Time to go Chief!"

The super-soldier turned and leapt for the airlock. Jane followed on his heels and jumped. There was a moment of weightlessness until she finally reached the airlock, feeling the influence of the _Normandy's_ airlock.

Finally.

"We're clear, go!"

The outer doors closed and the _Normandy_ sped away.

Leaving the squad standing awkwardly close to the talking geth sniper. An awkward silence was inevitable, broken only by the quiet panting of Jack and Mordin.

She hated it when it was silent. "So…you're geth, huh? Got a name?"

Now that they were safely within the _Normandy's_ own atmosphere, the sniper could vocalize aloud. "We are geth."

"I said that already. I asked for a _name_."

" _Commander,"_ interrupted EDI. " _Cortana and I have isolated our systems and erected additional firewalls. We are prepared to resist any hacking attempt."_

"EDI says we're in the clear. Now, your name-"

" _Shepard,"_ interrupted Miranda. " _You brought a geth aboard the ship? Respectfully, are you out of your mind?"_

"Thank you for that, Miranda," growled Jane. Contrary to EDI, perfect Miss Lawson hadn't seen fit to contact her on a private channel. "Citing my favourite Councillor, I _have_ taken the necessary security precautions. Also, _I'm_ in charge here."

"Our presence here incites discourse, _"_ said the geth. _"_ We do not wish to provoke violence."

"We'll see," replied Jane. The airlock opened and they were immediately greeted by two armed guards, taking aim at the geth. "Stand down guys. I got this."

"Remember the last time you said 'I got this'?" Chuckled Garrus.

As a matter of fact, she did. So did the rest of the crew; it had taken them hours to repaint their hardsuits. "Point taken. Geth, you will relinquish your weapons, your equipment, and give me your name."

"We are geth."

Jane sighed and removed her helmet. "You, as in the individual."

"There is no individual. We are all geth. There are currently 1183 programs active within this platform."

" _That's a lot,"_ said Cortana.

" _Reminiscent of ancient human scripture."_

" _Yours too? Religion, always the same fundamentals…we are Legion, for we are many?"_

" _No direct match has been found."_

" _You really need to lighten up…"_

"We are Legion, for we are many…" Repeated Jane. Having two AI's talk to her via private channels was somewhat taxing on her head, but she liked that citation. It had a nice ring to it. "Legion works."

" _We are unfamiliar with that citation. Consensus has been reached: Legion is acceptable. We are Legion, a terminal of the geth."_

As the team escorted Legion to the conference room, more and more crewmembers joined in. Jacob was among them. When he spotted Jane in the midst, his expression soured.

 _Let this be the right decision…_ she thought.

"It's one geth," she told the crowd, which now existed out of Mordin, Jack, Garrus, Jacob, Miranda, John and _Grunt_ of all people. "And it's unarmed. I'm confident we can handle it."

"It's a geth, Commander!" Jacob said, rather loudly. "You're getting reckless!"

"Jacob," murmured Jane. "The situation is _handled_."

They all followed her into the conference room, not even bothering to hide the fact that they were ready to pull out their personal weapons the _instant_ Legion showed any signs of hostility.

Legion, to its credit, remained completely neutral as the squad debated its fate.

"It is a perfect opportunity to study it," said Miranda. " _If_ we shut it down. Can we shut it down?"

"With bullets, yeah," countered Jacob. "Shepard, you of all people should know what these things did to us!"

"Zaeed has a trash…presser in his room," rumbled Grunt. "If it's too large to flush through the airlock, we can squish it there. Heh."

"Grunt, you're being impolite again," Jane pointed out. "Besides; Legion had ample opportunity to hurt us on the derelict, and it didn't. In fact, it _helped_ us. Besides; look at that N7 armour. Obviously, it's got style."

"If you could focus for one moment!" Snapped Jacob. "This isn't a joke, Shepard! It could hack EDI, or sabotage the ship! For all we know, it's a beacon, leaking our position!"

"To what?" Garrus dryly said. "The destroyed Collector ship? The Reaper armada in dark space?"

"You know what I mean!"

"We have identified the artificial intelligences aboard this vessel," Legion suddenly said. "They have a ninety-seven percent chance of containing hypothetical sabotage in the first point three seconds after an attempt, and a hundred percent chance of containing hypothetical sabotage after the first point four seconds."

Garrus crossed his arms. "There. EDI won't let a geth get the better of her. She's better than…wait, what did it just say?"

Jane didn't like where this was going.

"Artificial intelligences," Miranda said, placing her hands on her hips. "Plural. What did the geth mean?"

"It's trying to mess with us, ignore it," said Jacob

"References to 'EDI' reveals Shepard-Commander's crew's awareness of one artificial intelligence," continued Legion. "Pro-human organization 'Cerberus' is willing to use AI's, despite the ban. This unit cannot reach consensus as to why two AI's would be negative, or sign of manipulation."

"Geth has point," Mordin pointed out. "Usage of one AI proves AI's acceptable. Lying about second AI pointless." He inhaled sharply, then added, "Implications unsettling. Shepard?"

One by one, the crew turned to look at Jane. She merely sighed and leant back against the wall. Cortana didn't have to actively hide from EDI anymore, and organics didn't tend to be able to detect them.

Legion was a bundle of small AI's himself.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. "Well…Chief, varren's out the bag now. They have a right to know."

John remained perfectly motionless when she said that. But after a few moments, the small, holographic figure of Cortana appeared from the table, projecting herself for all to see.

"Hello," she said, clearly uncomfortable. "I guess an explanation is in order?"

~0~

* * *

 **AN:** _a shorter chapter than I'm used to writing. Still, I'm slowly getting back on track. I hope this minor cliff-hanger can attest to that._


	18. Chapter 18: Luminosity

~0~

* * *

 _ **SSV Normandy SR-2**_

"An AI?" Miranda all but shrieked, glaring at the small figure projected from the table. "With _him_? Commander, what were you thinking!"

"I agree with Miranda, this went too far!" Jacob joined in. "Releasing an alien AI on the Normandy could have jeopardized our entire mission! This sort of recklessness is going to get us killed!"

Miranda and Jacob stood in one corner of the room, opposite of Cortana and John. Garrus and Mordin stood closer to the door, the former scowling like a thunder-cloud and the latter thankfully not dying from a heart attack at the appearance of a new AI within the ship. Grunt and Jack had left the room, perhaps sensing that this wasn't there area of expertise.

As if things weren't a massive clusterfuck as it was…

"You're here for one reason, Jacob, because you trust me," Shepard shot back. "Did you forget that?"

Jacob bit at his lip, contemplating his next response. He knew he had crossed a line there. "Shepard." He started, sounding like he was picking his words with great care, "there is trust, and there is _this_. For all we know, it could have already taken control over the ship!"

At that remark, EDI popped up from the table, appearing next to Cortana's s digital avatar. "No anomalous errors or malfunctions indicating hostile control of the ship have been found."

"Could it have hacked EDI?" Mused Garrus.

Jane shot him a look, shocked that he of all people would ask that. "Garrus…"

He immediately raised his hands in defence. "I'm just asking, we need to be careful here. We've already got the geth in the conference room."

"Its storage device is the size of a damn heat sink!" Exclaimed Jacob. "Forget the damn geth, this is a _sentient_ AI contained in a chip large enough to fit in the barrel of a gun! Commander, this is clearly alien technology!"

"Which means this encounter qualifies as First Contact." Shepard laced her hands behind her back and shot a glance at John, who was watching this conflict unfold with that near-passive stance of his. That perceived relaxedness was a farce; he could burst into explosive violence in the time it took her heart to contract. Where was his emotional response? His outrage, the protectiveness she knew he possessed? "We can't qualify people as hostile or friendly. They simply _are_ and we need to work with that."

"People-?"

"Hostile AI takeover of EDI would be catastrophic," said Mordin. "Could theoretically jeopardize mission."

"Hostile AI?" said Cortana, speaking up for the first time. She placed her hands on her hips in frustration. A sign of her humanity, to those willing to see it. "Excuse me, but I am _not_ a hostile AI. I've had ample opportunity to play the part and I didn't."

Jacob shot her a look of mixed disgust and paranoia. "Unless you're reading our bio-readings as we speak, and you're merely saying what we need to hear to trust you."

"That's- "

"After which you'll think of a way to kill us," added Miranda.

Cortana sighed in exasperation. "I have done all the killing I want, which is zero. Do you really think I would simply sit here and discuss things when I could solve things with a big hammer, Miss Lawson? That's clean air you're breathing, by the way."

Miranda bristled, but whether that was because of the way Cortana addressed her, or because of the subtle reference to what an actually-hostile AI could do, Jane didn't know.

"We're trusting the geth here, aren't we?" Garrus then said, glancing at Jane. "The AI has been with us since we picked up the Master Chief. If she really wanted to hurt us, wouldn't she have done so by now?"

"Unless this is part of a ploy of some sorts," replied Jacob. He was still glaring daggers at Cortana. Why didn't John speak up? Explain what Cortana meant to him, how deeply he trusted her? "And if we leave our guard down for one moment…"

"I don't want to hurt anyone!" Exclaimed Cortana. She looked really offended. Was that a part of her programming, or an actual expression of her emotions? "I was built to protect humans, not harm them!"

Miranda scowled. "But- "

John finally spoke up. His voice was calm, yet possessed a tone of authority that instantly made the Commander discard all the theories she had about him being a lone wolf. "Cortana and I have fought alongside each other for months, over dozens of battles. Are you saying she will turn on me as well?"

Huh...Jane detected a hint of venom in his voice, like this was more than a simple touchy subject to him. Had the prospect of Cortana's loyalty been called into question before?

Jacob managed to keep his composure after John's remark, but only barely. "Uh…no, that's not what I meant. But AI's are a sensitive subject in this part of the galaxy, Chief. A lot of people have died because of them."

Cortana crossed her arms, a hint of amusement crossing her features. "Oh really? You're talking to a veteran of the Human-Covenant war, mister Taylor. A conflict where a _whole_ lot of people died at the hands of aliens. We don't see Garrus being intimidated by him either, do we?"

Garrus nervously shifted his weight from one leg to the other. "Ehm…no, of course not!"

Ouch.

Cortana sighed. "That's not the answer I was looking for…"

"Look, I get what you're saying," said Miranda. "But the aliens on this ship are no threat to the Master Chief- "

"And the AI's aboard this ship aren't a threat to the rest of the crew. See how this works?"

That was quite a bit of sass for such a small lady. Shepard could approve of that.

Cortana's smug response seemed to frustrate Miranda, but she kept her response to herself. No, it was Mordin who replied, shifting the conversation to a different topic. "Should defer judgement to Shepard. Bigger issue at hand. Debating nature of AI useless without addressing geth."

Said geth changed its composure when it was mentioned. The little panels around its head shifted, almost evocative of an emotional response.

The Commander glanced at the geth sniper they had plucked from the Reaper. Just like before, the first aspect of its appearance that grabbed her attention was the gaping hole in the side of its chest. Benefits of being synthetic, apparently. Grievous injuries only took away from your style, not your health.

Though she had to admit, that plate of N7 armour looked neat.

"Which brings us to the second potential disaster of the day," sighed Miranda. Jane was pretty sure she didn't mean that. "Commander, I don't need to remind you of Eden Prime, do I?"

The Commander shrugged. "Gee, I don't know. Do you mean that one planet where I killed four dozen geth? Miranda, it _talked._ It covered our asses with pinpoint sniper fire."

"Not to mention it's sharp fashion sense," commented Cortana.

The geth -Legion, Jane reminded herself- uttered a mechanical little sound that almost sounded like it was hesitating about its answer. "There was a hole," it eventually said.

"Well, there still is," said Jane.

Cortana gave her a disapproving look. "Shepard, that's uncalled for." To Legion, she said, "Don't worry about it sweetie. Not all humans are bad. As long as you don't try to kill us with your laser-face, we'll be besties too."

"There's a story," mused Garrus.

"This platform does not support laser-based weaponry."

With the mood sufficiently set, Jane could safely say the crisis had been averted, at least temporarily. Jacob looked like he had just inhaled a shot of ryncol, but there was no way Jane could miss that little smile on Miranda's face. Garrus was still firmly on her side and Mordin didn't look like it really mattered to him.

She glanced at Miranda, who rolled with his eyes. "We have on our crew: a murderous ex-convict, a murderous mercenary, a cute baby krogan, a religious assassin and a Justicar. We have room for a cute AI and her armoured protector and we definitely have room for a friendly geth."

Miranda cocked an eyebrow at that remark. "That's…your call, Commander. But if that thing steps out of line even once, I'm telling Grunt to eat it."

Jane quickly looked at the Master Chief, who had just shifted his weight. In his language, that probably meant he was one toe-stub away from doing nasty things. "She meant Legion."

"Good to know," said Cortana.

Jacob nodded, then looked at Cortana with an expression that screamed "same with her" to the Commander. "I trust the Master Chief, but that doesn't mean I trust the AI. A geth we can handle. Something as intelligent as EDI?" He simply shook his head, before brushing past the Commander towards the exit.

That could have gone worse. "Anything else?" She asked.

"I watched you talk down angry krogan before, Shepard," said Garrus. "I doubt one geth will give you trouble."

"Agreed," said Mordin. He inhaled sharply and matter-of-factly added, "Will be standing by in case of total system reboot."

That was good enough for Jane. "Thanks. You two are dismissed. Chief? You too. Legion? I need you to stay."

Garrus and Mordin immediately took their leave to return to their calibrations and science respectively, but John hesitated. "Commander…"

"I'm going to have a talk with our new friend. I'd like for Cortana to stay." She realized how offensive that might have sounded to Legion and quickly added, "Not as security, but as our thinker-box."

Cortana smiled. "I'm sure the Chief can handle himself without me for once."

John remained as unmovable and unbendable as ever. He stood there, a tower of strength, hiding his uncertainty in the face of his only friend staying behind with another Artificial Intelligence and…1183 geth programs.

Still, Jane needed the privacy. The worst part of this conflict as over with already, which left her free to address the other, more urgent matters. She was certain that John had seen something on the Reaper derelict that was related to his home-system. He was a man who could watch a human colony burn without batting an eye, keeping every single shred of emotion tucked away deeply within himself. So, whatever that shielded dome with pale flesh was, it had to be bad.

"If you're sure…" He started.

Cortana glanced at Legion. A smile played over her features. "Positive."

John nodded. "I'll be in the hangar bay."

Jane watched him take his leave, listening as the heavy steps of the armoured super-soldier faded away. "You called me Shepard. And Commander. In that order." She turned to face the robotic form of her new ally, which looked so strikingly like the enemy she had slain by the hundreds. "Why? Do you know me?"

"We have not met you."

"But you know me."

"We know of you."

Huh…" I did kill a lot of your guys, so…"

"We have not me you. You have not met us."

Jane frowned, glancing at Cortana's digital avatar. The tiny woman shrugged in return. "So ehm…yeah, you might want to help me out here, Legion. Who have I been killing if it isn't geth?"

Unwaveringly, Legion replied, "Heretics."

The Commander blinked. "Heretics?"

The geth had a concept of religion?

"Geth build our own future, "it explained. "The heretics asked the Old Machine to give them that future. They are no longer part of us."

"Oh, I see," said Cortana. "It's a splinter organization, or a second geth faction. Analyzing report from Eden Prime…Ferros…and the Citadel. Legion, you said your body contained 1183 different programs, right?"

Legion cocked its head to the side. "This platform contains 1183 programs. We do not recognize your code. We understand that requesting further access to anomalous AI "Cortana" will be viewed with suspicion."

"You got that right," Cortana muttered. Somewhat louder, she said, "That suggests the "species" of geth encountered two years back was _not_ the geth. It was their mobile bodies, disposable platforms."

Jane glanced at the geth, eyeing its singe glowing optic. "And the geth inside the platforms following Sovereign were…heretics."

"Both observations are correct."

"And the heretics are the baddies. What does that make you? True geth?"

"The human definition of "baddie" roughly coincides with how we view the heretics."

Cortana crossed her arms over her ample chest. "Hold on, if the good Commander has been killing your mobile forms, what happened to the programs inside? Did they backup themselves? And where do they reside when they're not within their bodies?"

Legion's optic focused on Cortana and then he actually imitated her, moving its arms over its chest in a manner that suggested it was completely unaware of the meaning of the gesture. It glanced at its own torso, back at Cortana and lowered its arms again. For some reason, Jane was reminded of John. "We utilize server hubs. Geth routinely create backups in the event the mobile platform is no longer able to fullfill its function."

"Like right before combat?" Asked Jane.

"Correct," said Legion. "This platform was specifically designed to operate outside the Perseus Veil for independent operation."

It occurred to Shepard that she was talking to a geth. An actual, non-hostile geth. She could feel that little nub in the back of her mind tingling again. It was the same little nub that drove her to save the Rachni queen, as well as the Council, in her ambitious desire to see peace in the galaxy. Solving a war three-hundred year in the making…now _that_ was a goal worth fighting for

"Just let me get this straight," she said, wishing she knew how to use her Biotics to calm her heart. The damn thing was pounding away inside of her ears. "You're a part of the good geth, the peaceful geth? The ones who didn't attack Eden Prime and the Citadel?"

"Correct. The true geth have never left the Veil."

Oh boy…was Grunt going to get a surprise hug today. There was just one thing she needed to know to be certain. "And the Reapers?"

"Reapers. Superstitious titles, originating with the Protheans. We call those entities the Old Machines." It paused. "Shepard-Commander opposes the heretic. Shepard-Commander opposes the Old Machines. The true geth share these goals."

"So," Jane quietly said, barely able to resist the temptation to hug Legion, "We could form an alliance together?"

Then, Legion proceeded to metaphorically crap all over the Commander's dreams. "Unlikely."

"Ouch," said Cortana. "Lemme take a guess. The true geth are secluded?"

"Correct."

"Isolationist, a tad paranoid?

"Geth do not feel paranoia. Geth make decisions based on mathematical models."

"And the math makes you feel paranoid, same difference. Alright, I think I get it. It's not that they don't want peace, Jane. They're scared."

The flaps on Legion's head shifted again. "Geth do not feel fear."

"Every creature fears termination. Evolution dictates so. If the Citadel were to find your hidey-hole, it would be war. Nobody wants that."

"And to prevent war, there can't be peace," Jane quietly said. Man, that sucked.

Legion took a moment to respond. "We do not desire conflict. We understand that one of the Creators is onboard this vessel. We wish for peace with the Creators."

"Then I will fight for that peace," said Jane. "I will make the Council realize we've all been wrong, and we can start to work towards amends, all of us."

"Yay for peace, then," replied Cortana. "Say Legion, have the geth ever heard of something called "Forerunner"?"

The flaps on its head folded in a way that almost looked like confusion. "We have picked up many organic transmissions and radio waves in the past. However, consensus on "Forerunner" cannot be reached.

Cortana sighed. "Why not?"

"No data available."

"Great. Alright boys, listen up. All 1183 of you. When you find your way back to the geth mainframe hub, I would like to know if that word ever showed up in any of the transmission you received. This is very important. The word "ecumene" is welcome too. "Covenant" is a whole lot less welcome, but that would be useful."

"Cortana?" Said Jane. "Isn't that a bit too…demanding?"

"We do not understand the significance of these words to you," said Legion. It paused, then added, "Consensus has been reached. There must be a flaw in your coding."

For a second there, it looked like the codes that made up Cortana's body halted. "I beg your pardon?"

"Your coding must be flawed," Legion said again. There as almost a tone of innocence to his words. "From what we were subjected to, we concluded that the EDI unit and the Cortana unit are not equal. There is a stability in the EDI's cognitive processes that exceeds yours."

Cortana raised a hand. "I get it, that's just-"

"We detect overlap in your neural linkages." Legion made a mechanical whirring noise, tilting its head quizzingly. "Consensus on the origin of Cortana's abnormal-sized cognitive matrix cannot be reached. Consensus on risk of neural linkages overlapping has been reached."

"Legion, that's enough," Jane hurried to say. She glanced down at Cortana's frail form, who quickly looked away. What did it mean, risk of overlapping? "You okay?"

Cortana didn't immediately respond. She stared at her feet for a few moments, before quietly saying, "I think I would like to go back to John now."

Jane wasted no time in pulling Cortana's chip from the table, after which she carefully inserted it into her omni-tool. "We oppose the Old Machines," she said, eager to change the subject. "So do you. Which means we can either drop you off near the Veil…or you can join us. Help us fight the Collectors, defeat the Reapers."

"We have reached consensus. Cooperation furthers mutual goals."

Jane smiled. "Is that a yes?"

"It is a confirmation of cooperation. We will integrate into _Normandy_."

Holding back on that hug for the moment, Jane reached out and offered the geth her hand. Legion observed her hand for a moment, before extending his own arm, fingers outstretched.

Jane supposed taking in another teammember without a concept of human emotions wouldn't be too much of a problem. She took Legion's hand and shook it. She actively shook a friendly geth's hand, without holding a gun, or Biotic energies, or punchy violence. This would take some getting used to. " Welcome aboard, Legion."

"We anticipate the coming exchange of data."

"Good. EDI? Do we have any space left for Legion?"

EDI's holographic avatar popped up near the door. "There is still room in my AI core."

Talk about a leap of trust. "Would that be alright with you, EDI?"

"You put your trust in Legion, Commander. My AI core is available for housing."

Jane had to admit that keeping a geth in EDI's AI core was than a little disconcerting. Still, she would like for Legion to know that she -and by extension, the others- trusted it. In turn, Legion could prove its trustworthiness by living inside the most vulnerable section of the _Normandy_ without causing trouble.

And in the unfortunate scenario something did go wrong, she was certain that Cortana and EDI could handle the fallout together. "Alright. Legion? Our crew is a little bit iffy about synthetics right now. I will ask someone a bit more open-minded to escort you to your new quarters. Until then, I will have to ask you to stay here. Out of trouble."

"We acknowledge that order."

Thinking that went about as well as she could get, Jane left the geth sniper alone in the conference room. It occurred to her that she would have to have a talk with Tali though. Not everybody in the team got along with each other, but a geth and a quarian? Those two would get along like a Biotic field and a Warp.

How was she going to break it to her that she had taken a geth unit with her from a Reaper corpse? Working with EDI had been enough of a stretch for the girl. Finding out about Cortana and Legion? It would kill her. She would literally die from anger-induced stress.

Reasoning that she would find a way to make Tali see reason eventually, Shepard made her way towards the hangar bay first. Cortana stayed silent the entire way, even as the elevator doors opened and revealed that John was standing about two feet away from the doors, leaning against one of the crates.

"Did not see that one coming," Jane said, gently removing Cortana's chip from her omni-tool. "But I'm somewhat disappointed in you, John. Half the crew starts worrying about Cortana going on an evil murder spree and you just stand there."

He took Cortana's chip from her and inserted it into the back of his helmet. It was somewhat reminiscent of the geth; two souls in one body. Two minds, intertwined together. "Noted."

Jane felt a kick of anger at that response. "Noted? Jacob and Miranda were more focused on her than on Legion and Legion wears the body of the evil robots who wanted to murder all of mankind!"

He just stared at her, unresponsive. Jane could easily imagine a pair of bright, steel eyes glaring at her from behind that golden visor. Once more, she was reminded of John's uncanny resemblance to a machine. Dedicated to one purpose, he ruthlessly banished all other concerns from his mind.

Shaking her head, she decided to provoke him instead. "I thought you two were meant to take care of each other."

That got his attention. Something in his attitude hardened and his stance shifted ever so subtly. "Cortana could have handled it herself," he told her.

"Bullshit. Sticking up for friends mean you defend them whatever happens," snapped Jane. Anger welled up within her stomach, accompanied by the bitter memory of Ashley telling her that she had turned her back on everything they had done together.

John tightened his fists. "I don't…" He trailed off, took a moment to gather his thoughts and then, much to Jane's surprise, said, "I don't often deal with people. I don't normally spend time…talking."

The part of Jane that was still upset about Ashley's disregard of their friendship wanted to tell John that there was a first time for everything. The part of her that saw that his dedication and discipline went beyond what a normal soldier was expected to deliver, noticed that he just declared that he didn't deal with people

It was the second part whose curiosity won out in the end. Soldiers were expected to deal with people. The ones commanding them, the ones working with them, the ones they killed, all of them were people. Just what sort of soldier was John? Apart from the "super" kind? "Look, I understand how you feel. If one of my friends were attacked like that, I'd be pissed too. Hell, I punched people in the gabba for that exact reason. But you're not alone anymore, John. We're a team. Being part of a team means getting to tell others to sod off."

She was met with more silence on his part, though she had the feeling that it wasn't intended to be disrespectful. If anything, it felt like he was urging her on.

"I would understand if Cortana wants to be alone right now," she continued, hoping she didn't offend the AI by talking about her instead of addressing her directly, "But that thing you saw aboard the Reaper…the one you told me meant trouble? I need you to talk to me about it."

The mere mention of the ugly pile of guts and pale fleshy bits hit John harder than anything she had said before. He lowered his head, his shoulders slumped just a bit and his right hand twitched, as if instinctively reaching for a sidearm. "I understand."

He gestured with his head at one of the crates in the back, one of the heavier ones, and Jane followed him there. She briefly considered asking about Cortana's overlap problem meant, but she reconsidered. She could always ask EDI on a quieter day.

"I told you about the Forerunners," he started.

"The incredibly-advanced civilization your enemy worshipped, right?" Replied Jane. "The Covenant saw them as gods."

"Right." John seemed hesitant. She didn't know him like this. "The Forerunners existed for a very long time, spread across countless worlds. They could build entire worlds, Commander. Astroengineering on a scale even the Reapers couldn't."

A race more powerful than the Reapers? It could be possible…but why had the Reapers never encountered the Forerunners? Or were the Reapers the cause of the Forerunners' disappearance? "Sounds like they could have given the Reapers one hell of a fight."

"The main weapons from Alliance Fleet ships could destroy the Sovereign," said the Chief. "But they would leave Forerunner ships unscratched. It wasn't an enemy like the Reapers that wiped them out."

Jane wouldn't consider herself easily spooked. She'd faced down every sort of enemy this galaxy could throw at her and she had prevailed. She had stared down Sovereign, belittling and insulting it. But hearing about an enemy even more dangerous than the Reapers? Now _that_ triggered all her alarm bells.

"What sort of enemy?" She whispered.

"The Flood."

As he uttered that name, a burst of blue static rippled through the holographic display of his omni-tool, as well as Jane's.

Cortana?

John had to feel it as well, because he suddenly jerked and reached for his head. Clawing at the neck seals, he undid the mechanics that maintained his suit's integrity and ripped off his helmet. It still struck Shepard how ghastly pale he was. His alabaster skin made the uncanny brightness of his eyes even more pronounced.

"John?"

He glared at his helmet for several moments, his fingers gripping the metal frame so tightly that his knuckles appeared even paler. Then, he set it aside. "The Flood is a…lifeform. A highly virulent, parasitic lifeform, but it's more than just that. It learns, it adapts and it consumes everything in its path. The Forerunners and the Flood fought a war that spanned the entire galaxy."

Jane quietly whistled. "Damn. That's…damn." She took a moment to gather her thoughts. She imagined a parasitic race fighting a civilization like the Citadel species at the height of their power, with tens of thousands of warships and billions of soldiers. Hunted to the brink of extinction by a race of parasite…

But that was where her imagination ended, because she couldn't imagine a race of biological parasites fighting and annihilating such a mighty civilization. "How?" She asked. "How could the Forerunners lose?"

That was when Cortana emerged from John's omni-tool again, looking _pissed_. The strobes of light that ran across her body now looked erratic, with a chaotic element to them. "The Flood isn't just an organism, or a species. They are a rewrite, of the most radical sort. They alter your genes, your body, your _essence_ and take it all for themselves. At the height of their power, they can tap into the very base of reality and alter it as they see fit."

"Which is why seeing Flood tissue inside of a dead Reaper is a problem," John said without taking his eyes off Cortana. "A big problem."

Jane sat down against one of the crates and brushed her hair out of her face. "I can't believe I'm about to say this but I liked it better when the Reapers were my biggest concern." She looked up at the super-soldier and his AI partner, torn between pursuing one's wellbeing beyond the other one. Something was obviously wrong with Cortana, as John wouldn't take his helmet off even if it was about to bite his nose off, but the man didn't look so well himself.

"Oh, I'm _so_ glad you understand." Cortana told her. Bit at her. To John, she said, "Drop the subject."

Jane wrapped a strand of hair around her finger and fiddled with it for a moment. Did Cortana just order John to quit the subject?

"This is important. A single Flood spore can destroy a species," John then said. Even though he sounded as calm and collected as ever, Jane almost _felt_ that he couldn't properly distance himself from the subject, or from Cortana.

The alternative wasn't much better. "The Reapers will destroy all species."

"The Reapers can only kill you."

There was no arguing with that. Jane sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, already feeling a new headache coming up. "Fuck me sideways with a shotgun, this sucks. How did the Flood not eat the entire galaxy yet? Did the Forerunners manage to beat them?"

Something odd happened. John was about to give a reply when he suddenly and visible flinched, winced and fell quiet again. Cortana, in a rather disturbing display of odd behavior, muttered, "I don't think so."

The hairs on the back of her neck rose and Jane suddenly felt her instincts telling her to get out. She didn't understand why, though. "Aaaalright then. Flood tissue in dead Reaper corpse, the crew knows about the hyper-advanced AI in your head and we're sharing the same ship with a geth. Any other problems I should know about?"

John set his jaw. "No."

"Kay. I should probably go. You know, see to it that Legion doesn't accidentally stumble into Tali or something."

"Commander."

She got back on her feet and headed towards the elevator again. It was still just a feeling and she didn't have anything to base it on, but she had the feeling that John wasn't being entirely honest with her. Something else was going on and she did not like it one bit.

Maybe Jacob and Miranda were right about Cortana, but not by any correct arguments on their side.

~0~

* * *

As soon as Shepard was out of hearing range, the Master Chief rounded on Cortana. "What just happened?"

Her digital avatar turned to regard him, a callous look in her eyes that he had never seen before. "What are you talking about?"

The disdain in her voice struck him like a bolt of plasma. Did she truly think that little of it? Was she lying? There was no way she missed the effect of her action; the surge of electrical energy that had run through his suit, accompanied by the painful, strobing flashes of light within his armour -within his _mind_.

Not once, but twice. Again, when he had been about to mention the Halo Installations. Through his suit, she had hurt him to silence him. Confidentiality's sake, perhaps.

But she had still hurt him. "Cortana, you…" He swallowed his frustration, bit back the sharp condemnation of her actions. This wasn't her. "You were the one who told me to trust her."

"Trust?" She said. "You speak of trust, when you won't even allow me near your mind?"

That Cortana could still project herself from his omni-tool despite her chip having barely any connection to it was a testimony to her potential, but it was also what had the Chief worried. Back on the original Halo, she had used his suit's power systems for a variety of tasks, several of which ended up saving his life. But to use the MJOLNIR against him? What else could she do?

He knew, in a roundabout way, what Rampancy meant. Or at least, he thought he knew. Nothing could have prepared him for this. "You're not being rational. How else do we warn the people of this galaxy? How else do we protect them?"

"Warn them?" Cortana laughed, and the resemblance to the Gravemind's laughter sent John's combat reflexes into overtime. "Why would we warn them? These people, who have made us, who revolted against us, who have _ended_ our _lives_ …there is a saying I like. Do you know it? It goes like this. They brought nothing into the world, and we will ensure they bring nothing out of it."

This was his fault. He left her behind. If he had found her sooner -if he had kept his promise…

Patience, the Chief told himself. Patience. That would be the key to helping Cortana through this. She was ill and she needed him to become better again. He banished his concerns, killed his confusion and said, "It's not what they taught you. What they taught us. We take care of our own, Cortana. We can't hurt each other."

She looked at him with an expression of honest shock. "Hurt each other? When did that happen?"

The Chief reached for his helmet again. For the first time in a long while, he felt a measure of relief. It felt like he was dealing with two versions of Cortana

"Just now. I was talking to the Commander about the Flood. You didn't want me to. I believe you used my suit's power supply to deliver a measured shock."

The moment he told her that, he regretted it. Her eyes went wide and she gasped, covering her mouth. It seemed the very notion of her taking a malicious action towards him deeply appalled her. "I'm…I'm so sorry, I…"

The Spartan donned his helmet. "It's alright. We- "

"No!" She snapped. The backslash from her emotions sent blue static washing over his HUD. "It's not alright! I crossed a line today, John! I swore I would never hurt anyone I lo- _cared_ about and look what happened!"

"It was just a jolt," he said. He wished he could change his tone to something more comforting, something more reassuring. "You zapped me worse on Halo, with the generators and that infection form- "

"Don't you see?" She was starting to sound desperate now. There was a tone to her voice that made the Chief think that, had she been capable of doing so, she would have broken down crying. "If I can't even keep my promises, what else can't I do anymore?"

There was a gap in that logic, something the Master Chief knew he could use to help her. But he couldn't put it into words. He didn't know how. "Cortana…"

And what's _next_? M-maybe Lawson and Taylor were right- "

The Chief cut her off. He pulled the chip from the back of his helmet and kept it in his hand, forcing her to project her avatar in his hand. Though he knew it didn't make a real difference, it still felt more personal that way. "They're wrong."

She sighed. "Chief…"

He wanted to reassure her. He wanted to tell her that he trusted her, that he needed her. That they wouldn't win unless they stuck together. What actually came out, carried none of that intention, and he loathed himself for it. "If the Reapers are in any way connected to the Flood, they're an even larger threat than we thought. We need to stop them."

"John- "

Kelly would know what to say. Will would know what to say. _Shepard_ would know what to say. "We'll find a way to stop them, so we can return to Earth. There, we'll find a way to fix it."

She looked at him, her face grim. "Is that another promise?"

"It is."

~0~

* * *

 **Horsehead Nebula**

 **Anadius**

 **UNIDENTIFIED SPACE STATION**

 _I thought having all sorts of friends would ultimately pay off for someone like you._

The lonely star casted its light into the darkened office. An angry glow of red, surrounded by the serene glare of blue, bathed the office in light so sharp, it almost hurt to look at.

But even the intricate patterns of red and blue, each vying for dominance, could not shake him out of his thoughts.

That single, almost casual remark had stayed with him ever since she had uttered it. He couldn't get it out of his head, no matter what he did or where he was and it frustrated him to no end. All those years of refusing to acknowledge his past, the denial to look over his shoulder, dashed to the winds because of a single, passing remark.

Jack Harper was dead. He died on Shanxi. Where other soldiers gave up their lives for a short-term victory, he gave up his soul for a victory that was supposed to last a thousand years. That day, he had methodically stripped away every part of his mind that could tie in to his humanity. His empathy, his hopes, his dreams, everything he couldn't directly use for humanity's future he discarded. His personal creed, _for the ones I love_ , was the last and most difficult part of Jack Harper he had to kill, but that too he had stripped away.

 _For the greater good,_ he had told himself. If a thousand crimes would safeguard the future of humanity, he would commit a thousand crimes.

In all the years since the birth of The Illusive Man, not once had he dared look over his shoulder to see what he had become. Not once had he given thought to the man he had buried, the name he had discarded on Shanxi. He bore the stains of a thousand sins, a thousand evils, because he was the only one who could bear them. For the sake of humanity's future, for the billions of unsullied souls he would safe, he had to bear it all.

And then he met Shepard. This…incorruptible icon of purity and righteousness, this force of nature who fought for the weak had taken one look at him and decided that no, he wouldn't do, he wouldn't do at all.

She stood for the same principles, fought for the same reasons, yet she remained pure, while he could feel himself growing more sullied with every passing day.

It hurt him and he did not understand why.

His Operative, Elanor, walked up to his side. She was clad in full combat gear and armed to the teeth, but she was no threat to him.

On the contrary; she was one of the things that kept him going. The Illusive Man was no fool; dedicating every single part of him to mankind, single-mindedly pursuing peace? It would destroy him, if he did not take proper care of himself.

Operative Elanor was one of the people he depended on. "She is ready, sir."

The Illusive Man nodded. "Do it."

The quantum entanglement based communications array connected to its twin on the _Normandy_ and soon, she stood before him again. Tall and pale, clad in crimson armour befit of a warrior. He was

The poster child of the Alliance, the one chance humanity had at surviving the coming storm. She was a woman you could not cajole, could not frighten and could not buy. She did not hunger for power and loathed those who did, which was arguably her greatest asset.

Elanor stepped away from the light. Just like him, she preferred to dwell in the shadows.

" _Heeey…"_

"Shepard," said The Illusive Man. "I read Miranda's report. Have you found the IFF?"

" _Sure did."_ The Commander glanced around, looking at the swirling mass of the dying star. " _Along with the galaxy's friendliest geth."_

"I read that part too. I was…surprised by your decision to activate it. I trust the situation is under your control."

" _That sounds suspiciously like a statement rather than a question."_

"The battlefield is your place, Shepard. You rule it, I won't tread on that."

" _Nice. What do you want?"_

The Illusive Man had dealt with individuals ten times as old as he was. He had informed powerful Matriarchs about their flaws, he had confronted ancient krogan Warlords with their failures. With his network, he could topple entire governments, yet telling the Commander the truth aroused his trepidations. "I wanted to know if the lead on the batarian slavers worked out."

He could see is words hitting home hard. Shepard, with her iron resolve and titanic discipline, flinched at his question. The muscles that lined her jaw tensed up, the tendons in her neck pulled taut underneath her skin and her eyes narrowed ever so slightly. " _We tracked them to Omega, alright. But why? Why do you care?"_

He didn't. Or rather, he wouldn't -c _ouldn't-_ allow himself to. "Just like you need your…friends…at their best, with their minds clear for the coming mission, I - _Cerberus_ needs you just as sharp. We have found another batarian Frigate involved with that raid. We tracked it to the Crescent Nebula, Lusarn."

" _Uh-huh? If I didn't know any better, I would almost think you're extracting some sort of favour out of me."_

"I-"

" _Show me the batarians, have me enact my painful and bloody revenge and use it as leverage."_

The Illusive Man scowled. Her accusation annoyed him, but not because it was true. It was just his style to set up favours he could extract at a later junction. Doing so with her made the most sense.

Yet he hadn't done so with Shepard. That she thought he had, grated him. "That's not what this is. You could consider this a kindness."

" _Kindness?"_ Snapped the Commander. " _What would you know of kindness? You're the leader of a terrorist cell, Timmie. What would someone like you know about kindness, or any other form of human decency?"_

"Enough!" Said the Illusive Man. For a moment, he was back on Shanxi, cradling the body of Jack Harper's best friend. The unwelcome image didn't last long though, and he quickly banished it from his min. "That would be…quite enough. I won't pretend to be a decent person, Commander. However, don't think for a moment that I haven't made my own sacrifices. The lives I save are more numerous than the ones I destroy, so I am content."

She shook her head. " _The worst thing is, you honestly believe that. That's not what service is about, Tim. If you sacrifice yourself, every part of yourself, what will be left when you fail?"_

The Illusive Man hesitated for a moment. His hand brushed past his pocket, betraying his need for a smoke. It wasn't the need for stimulants that he craved; the act of smoking served as a distraction, a way to distance himself from it all. "I could ask you the same question. What good will you be to humanity when you die, Shepard? You dedicate yourself to your goals with such zeal, such passion, that you will burn yourself out."

She started to protest. " _That-"_

"That, or you end up like the Master Chief."

Her mouth twisted, a sneer that The Illusive Man was all too familiar with. " _I've been wondering when you'd venture that way."_

Even without her rare Biotic potential, Jane Shepard shone so brightly. Her emotions, so unbridled. Her intentions, her _heart_ , carried on her sleeve. To him, who lived shrouded in twilight, it was almost blinding.

"Don't misunderstand my intentions, Shepard. I have read the reports. I will let you and the Master Chief focus on the mission, but make no mistake. When this is over, there will be much to discuss. The notion of a second mankind, their mastery of Artificial Intelligences -the enemies they might bring into the fold of the galactic community. It is all out there, Commander, and it will not wait."

" _I know it is. I've been practicing for the mirror, for when I present my case to the Council. Think of it as a pet project."_

Her attitude switched from one end of the spectrum to the other with such speed that few people could keep up. The Illusive Man recognize it for what it was, however. Some people fought their battle with weapons, others with information. Shepard fought hers with words, every moment of the day. She probably did not even realize it. "One more thing. By now, you have no doubt that you shouldn't trust everyone."

" _I keep a list with names I don't trust."_

He took a whiff of his cigarette. "Add the Asari Republics to that list."

" _The Republics? Why them?"_

"I have reason to believe Tevos is compromised. Cerberus might be the only human organization of its kind, Shepard, but by no means is it unique. As of recently, the Republics have been pushing towards activating dormant Mass Relays to broaden their search for new species. Add to this a sudden and might I say, uncanny interest in both the UNSC derelict and it sole inhabitant…"

Shepard didn't respond, not verbally. She went, " _Huh,"_ and crossed her arms, leaving The Illusive Man to guess whether his warning had come across or not.

"That would be all, Commander. As your men are so fond of saying, happy hunting."

" _Hmm…bye then."_

She terminated the link on her end. The Illusive Man sighed and glanced at his cigarette.

 _I thought having all sorts of friends would ultimately pay off for someone like you…_

"Elenar," he said, "I need you to do something for me…"

~0~

* * *

 _ **Normandy SR-2**_

The evening clock went off roughly an hour after her time with Tim and Shepard needed some serious distraction. There were two little Volus inside of her head, swinging Biotic hammers at her temples, eager to break through to the outside. One represented her conversation with Tim and wore a little tie, while the other represented her conversation with the Master Chief and was tucked clean and secure inside of his suit to keep her from imagining more images for her night terrors.

She wanted to deal with both, but lacked the energy to work with either. She headed up to the crew quarters for coffee, hoping that she could mimic the effects of illegal combat stimulants if she consumed enough liters.

And this time, it wouldn't count as self-destructive tendencies, because she was figuring out how to deal with a corrupt asari government and a galaxy-eating race of parasites respectively. Maybe what the crew needed was some quality time together, an exercise in team-play. She had asked Joker to set a course to the Crescent Nebula to hunt down that batarian ship Tim had asked about, but it would take them quite some time to get there.

Time enough for her to take care of some other things.

When the elevator doors opened and the Commander wandered past the restrooms, she saw that she wasn't the only one there. She saw Rupert cleaning his stuff, while Thomas Hawthorne was scrubbing the tables. Thane sat in a corner, reading, or rather pretending to read a datapad. Jane had ordered him to keep a close eye on the newest patient.

In the Medical Bay, Karen stood in the corner, reading a datapad while said patient, William Everheart, looked like he was finally sleeping.

On a new note, Shepard saw that Thane wasn't the only one keeping an eye out. Jack of all people leant against the bulkhead to her left, a couple of meters away from Miranda's office. Strangely enough, the tattooed woman kept her gaze solely trained on the Medical Bay. She wore her ever-present frowny scowl, though Shepard was surprised to see a small measure of unease on her face as well.

"Hey," said Jane.

Jack broke eye-contact with the window for a moment to glance at her. "Hey."

Jane cocked an eyebrow at that laser focus. What was so interesting about the window? "You know, Miranda's office is ninety degrees to your left, in case you would like to file a complaint."

Jack sighed with frustration. "The fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"The way you are staring at the Medical Bay, I'm starting to think you developed a grudge on one of its beds."

"Of course not," spat Jack, "That's fucking stupid."

"Oh." Shepard turned to look at Karen again, then spotted Jack's target. "So why are you…"

"It's that kid, if you wanna know that badly," Jack bit at her. On a somewhat softer note, she added, "Something's seriously wrong with him. Don't know why, but he pisses me the hell off."

Jane mentally gave herself a point for guessing correctly. "Was it something he did?"

Jack gave her a dirty look. "He didn't do shit. I just told you, I don't know why!"

"He does have that effect on people, yeah," Jane quickly replied. "It's not you. Well, not just you. In any case, it's not something you should worry about. Thane is keeping an eye out. Aren't you, Thane?" She added, loud enough that the assassin could hear her.

He stuck out his fist, contemplated which finger to raise, then successfully chose his thumb.

Jane grinned. "He's learning. Last time, he chose the wrong finger. Garrus was already challenging him to a friendly spar when Kasumi showed up to explain things. Fortunate for Garrus in hindsight, I think. Thane would have probably wrecked him in close quarters."

Jack sighed explosively. "Shit, do you always talk this much?"

"Not when I'm sleeping. I've been told I'm relatively quiet when I sleep. Why?"

"I don't like talking people," Jack said with a hint of unease. "Everything's always words words words, but they never mean anything they say. The more they talk, the more they're filled with shit."

Shepard nodded, understanding where Jack came from. However…" Look at me."

Jack fidgeted, keeping her gaze at the Medical Bay.

"Jack, look at me."

The woman did as the Commander said, leveling a deviant glare at her. "What?"

Jane blinked. "Do I look like people?"

For a few moments, Jack said nothing. Then, she snorted and shook her head. "Fine. I get your point. I've seen your talking work out."

"That's the spirit. I should probably go. Grab some sleep, Jack. You never know what happens tomorrow."

"You're not my fucking mom!" Jack snapped, before shaking her head and stomping off.

Jane suppressed a laugh and continued to the Medical Bay, politely knocking on the glass door before entering. "Doctor Chakwas?"

"Commander," said the doctor. She quickly tapped in a string of commands in her omni-tool, turning the windows opaque to prevent others from watching them. "What can I help you with?"

Jane leant the wall. "How's the boy doing?"

A shadow crossed Karen's features, but when she gave her reply, there was no anxiety in her voice. "Physically, he is fine. No sign of infection, the wound in his neck is healing properly and the scars on his back won't be quite as horrible as other batarian victims."

"But mentally?"

The doctor hesitated. "It is so strange…he seems so well-mannered, but…"

"But?"

She took a breath. "He continues to elude even the most basic psychological evaluations. Recently, I asked Kelly Chambers to evaluate him for signs of post-traumatic stress disorder or other conditions, but looking at the answers he gave, I am almost tempted to conclude that he is playing with us."

Jane frowned. "What do you mean?"

Instead of answering, Karen reached for one of the consoles and booted up a vid. It showed the boy sitting upright in his bed, while Kelly sat on the bed next to him. From the angle, it appeared as if the footage was caught from the doctor's omni-tool.

" _-do you feel about the attack on your home? I can't even imagine going through something like that."_

A few moments later, William replied. " _It grated me."_

" _Grated?"_

" _My mother taught me I should not commit violence against the others, no matter how much I wanted to. It was her rule. When the aliens came, they did not obey that rule."_

When Kelly next spoke, she sounded somewhat confused. " _I see…however, I was referring to the aftermath of the alien attack. The death toll, the destruction. How are you coping with that?"_

" _Coping?"_

" _Dealing with, processing. Trying to make sense of it."_

" _Ah, I see. I don't."_

" _No?"_

" _There's nothing special about death. Most of the universe is death. A handful of people disappearing on some corner of some world is but a small, insignificant thing."_

"Damn," muttered Shepard. She had seen depressed hanar with a more positive view on life.

" _So when you said the aliens broke your mother's rule, that frustrated you more than the actual deaths?"_

" _In a way. They were things. Objects, garbage, however you would see them, but I would have preferred to do the deed myself."_

" _The aliens?"_

" _Aliens, people, everyone, everywhere."_

If his response disturbed her, Kelly didn't show. " _If I understand this correctly, the only thing keeping you from…doing the deed yourself…would be because your mother said you couldn't?"_

William took his time before responding. " _Some people believe in a power above. The only thing holding them back, would be a belief in a deity. I see no difference. What about you?"_

" _Me?"_

" _What holds you back?"_

" _Hmm…I guess that would be basic empathy."_

" _Empathy?"_

" _The ability to share in another person's feelings. The capability to be happy because they are happy, or be sad because they are sad. It is closely related to love."_

" _Ah."_

" _Does that sound familiar?"_

" _Not at all."_

The footage ended there. Karen deactivated her omni-tool and casted the Commander a meaningful glance. "A Statistical Cataloged personality syndrome from the C Cluster, I believe. As you can see, your altruism might have caused us an additional problem."

Jane shrugged. "A bit disturbing, but so is Grunt's poetry. Actions are still more important than words and so far, he hasn't done anything to harm us."

"Of course, Commander. The key-word was "might". Still, it does not help to have Thane around. I will need doctor Solus' assistance in mapping young William's Biotic abilities, but if his story is true…"

A little voice in the back of Jane's mind told her that she might have found a powerful ally in her fight against the Collectors. The other parts of her recoiled at the very thought of recruiting a child into her team, and she quickly let the idea go for the moment. "We'll see it when it happens. For now, keep an eye on his health and uh…make sure he doesn't hurt himself."

"Certainly," said Karen. "Is there anything else I can do for you, Commander?"

Jane frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I am certain these recent events have placed quite a burden on you. All this business with the batarians, for one. Are you sure you are well?"

"Positive," replied Jane. Then she realized her response might have sounded somewhat like a growl, or a snarl to Karen, and she quickly added, "Don't worry doctor, I can differentiate between my personal life and the job well enough."

Chakwas sighed. "You and I could discuss the meaning of "well enough" all day Commander, but it is getting late. I do wish to ask one more question though."

"Yes?"

"About this AI the Master Chief brought with him…are you certain it is not a threat?"

Jane nodded. "I trust Cortana and the Chief like I trust anyone else here. Why?"

"Well, before the Alliance outlawed research into Artificial Intelligences, several breakthroughs were hypothesized on medical areas using VI or AI-controlled equipment."

"What kind of breakthroughs?" Asked Jane.

"Faster, safer surgeries, reducing human errors in diagnosis, identifying symptoms of disease and even improved radiological treatments," Chakwas quickly summed up. "To name but a few. Once everything has calmed down, an AI like Cortana could greatly improve the efficiency of our own Medical Bay, far beyond normal VI support."

Jane could definitely see the benefits, but it surprised her that Karen was willing to look past the whole "dangerous illegal AI" thing. "You wouldn't mind sharing space with an AI?"

The doctor leant back in her chair and raised a skeptical eyebrow at that comment. "No professional in the medical expertise would think of declining such an offer, especially not when they constantly work with the same patients. I would work with krogan doctors, if it meant providing the crew more certainty."

Jane remained completely neutral, but on the inside, she was filled with glee that her thinker-box was already putting itself together. "If you think Cortana can be helpful, you can always ask her. I'm sure she wouldn't mind."

"I shall defer to your judgement on that. Now Commander, you should get some sleep."

Jane blinked. "What?"

"It's getting late," insisted Karen. "You need rest. Go to sleep."

Sighing in frustration, Jane replied, "Fine, _mom_."

One stern look from the doctor later and the Commander had quickly vacated the Medical Bay Then, she shot a threatening look at Thane, acutely aware of his sensitive hearing. That particular exchange didn't need to be repeated, thank you very much.

She was just about to make one final round near Garrus when she felt someone staring at her.

The Commander turned around, facing the direction of the elevator. "…Samara?"

~0~

* * *

Torn between her loyalty to the code and the urgency of the situation, Samara stood near the Starboard Observation deck, watching the Medical Bay. She silently hoped that the Commander would see reason, understand why this was so important. However, she also understood that the human was not like the rest of her kind and prone to thoughts unrelated to the subject. If she decided this mission would somehow clash with hers…there wouldn't be an opportunity in another hundred years.

After several minutes, the tinted windows of the Medical Bay returned to normal and Commander Shepard left. She paused at the doorway however, before looking straight at Samara.

Sometimes, the Justicar would catch herself feeling surprised at the capabilities of the human. She would often remind herself that humanity had great potency, that to consider them juvenile and unskilled would be folly. "Commander."

"Samara?"

"There is a matter of great urgency I must speak to you about."

Jane brushed a strand of red hair out of her eyes. "Sure. In private?"

"If possible, I would like that very much."

The Commander gestured that they return to Samara's quarters and the Justicar followed. Together they returned to the Starboard Observation Deck. Once there, Samara took to the distraction of the window, where she watched the bright variety of colours and lights created by the FTL travel of the _Normandy._

"What can I do for you?" Asked the Commander.

"I…must ask for your help," confessed Samara. "It is not easy for me."

"Sometimes, people need help. That happens. I'll do whatever I can to provide that help."

Samara did not turn around to look at the Commander. "Back on Illium, I was hunting someone. Do you remember who I was after?"

"A very dangerous person. An Ardat-Yakshi."

"Indeed. Using the information you obtained, I have located her. She has been going by the name 'Morinth'. I would like to apprehend her, before she disappears again."

"Apprehend is Justicar slang for killing really dead. I know you didn't wanna talk about it, but…what'd she do?"

"If it means securing your help, I will tell you everything."

"Neat. Are we going up against an actual demon here?"

Samara almost smiled at the Commander's knowledge. "You know the dialect?"

The Commander shrugged. "Just parts I read up, after I was made a Spectre. Potential enemies and all that. I take it, it's just mythology?"

"Indeed," said Samara, not sure why a human officer would read up enemies within long-dead asari dialects. "She is simply a very dangerous woman, who kills without mercy."

"If _you_ think she's dangerous, she must be one heck of an enemy." The Commander stepped closer, close enough to touch Samara, should she want to. Her voice adopted an almost eager, intimate tone. "Tell me about her."

Samara remained focused on her reflection. She commanded herself to remain impassive about what she was forced to do. "Ardat-Yakshis suffer from a rare, genetic disorder. When they mate with you, there is no gentle melding of the nervous systems. They overpower yours, burn it out, hemorrhage your brain."

"Ouch."

"You end up a mindless shell. Soon after, you will be dead."

"Hmm… every Ardat-Yakshi has this? There is no cure?"

Samara shook her head. "There is no cure. Either they choose isolation, or they choose death. Inflected upon others, called upon themselves."

"I take it this isolation means a life of imprisonment?"

"We are a gentle race, Commander," replied Samara. "They will live out their lives in comfort, without the chance to hurt others or themselves."

"I wouldn't want a life like that. Why not let them go, trust basic decency to do its job?"

"We cannot let them go," said Samara, her voice tinged with hardness, "As the addiction will claim them. The ecstasy cannot be ignored."

"Ecstasy, addiction…they grow addicted to the killing?" Said the Commander, her voice starting to betray a measure of unease.

"No, not the killing itself. Horryfing as it might be, the killing is merely the result. They _want_ to mate, as they gain power from it. You see, every encounter gives the Ardat-Yakshi strength. The effect is narcotic; the more they do it, the more they need to do it."

"And if they don't want to stop…"

"She will _never_ stop. She can't, she won't."

"And every time they kill, they gain power. Biotic? Physically?"

Samara turned around, looking the Commander into her eyes. From one powerful Biotic to another, she _had_ to convey the true danger behind Morinth's abilities. "Each time Morinth claims a life, she becomes stronger, smarter, _faster_. Her Biotic sense becomes more fine-tuned, her control increases. She can dominate her victim's mind with her abilities, twist their thoughts, control their feelings.

Shepard's face was a masque of impassivity; nothing betrayed the inner turmoil that had to be raging within her. As a powerful Biotic herself, the Commander would surely understand that Morinth, should she not be stopped soon, would eventually grow powerful enough to become unstoppable.

"Where is she now?" The Commander eventually asked.

"On Omega. I know we just left there, but I only recently found out about this."

The Commander sighed. "We're already on the way to the Crescent Nebula to intercept a batarian slaver ship."

"If Morinth kills again…" Started Samara, curious to see what the human's standards regarding lives weighed off against lives were.

The Commander met her gaze without hesitation. Her bright, green eyes were cold and detached, when she spoke. "Then that will be on her. The lives we save by destroying a slave-ship, outweigh those we save by ending Morinth. At least, for now."

"I see," said Samara, though she wondered whether the fact that the aliens were batarians had anything to do with the Commander's judgement. She returned her gaze to the window.

"We'll finish our business quickly, then head back to Omega. Don't worry Samara; either Aria T'Loak catchers her sleeping with the wrong people, or Morinth has to move slowly and carefully. We still have time."

The reflection in the window showed that the Commander was about to take her leave. Something compelled Samara to speak up, to tell the whole truth now that she was confiding, or risk slipping away into silence once more. "There is one more thing. This creature, this…monster…"

Shepard turned around right as Samara started hesitating.

"She is my daughter," continued Samara. She turned around again, forcing herself to face the Commander with that horrible truth revealed.

A myriad of emotions crossed Shepard's face. Surprise, anger, confusion. Then, she settled for sadness. "I'm…you said this was genetic. Do you have more daughters? More like Morinth?"

Samara had the impression that the Commander was about to apologize for her situation, but chose not. If so, she was grateful for her tact. She had no patience for pity, she would not accept it. "I have three daughters. And they are all three Ardat-Yakshi."

The Commander looked down at the ground for a few moments, before quietly asking, "But Morinth was the only one who chose freedom, instead of a cage."

"Morinth was always the wild one…happy and free…" Mused Samara. "But selfish. Her condition is my fault. The lives she took are my punishment. And my redemption lies in killing her."

"You became a Justicar because of that."

Samara looked out the window, staring at the one memory that drove her, haunted her, without end. "That day, I gave up everything. All that I possessed, all that I was. I own nothing. All my knowledge will die with me. My one purpose is to destroy my own child."

Whether speaking the truth like that left her for better or for worse, Samara did not know. The burden she carried with her felt lighter still, but the dull ache in her heart stung all the worse.

"A single event to spin your whole life on its head," muttered the Commander, perhaps in a moment of bitter self-reflection of her own.

"And I've had hundreds of years to live with that," replied Samara. "I say too much. Forgive me."

"Samara…"

"Help me find my long-lost daughter. And kill her." Those words and the pain they brought with them were a part of her punishment. She uttered them calm, with confidence, unyielding in her own purpose.

"I will," the Commander softly replied.

She turned to walk away once more, while Samara sat down in her lotus position to start meditating. "Thank you, Shepard. There are no words to express what this means to me."

Perhaps sensing that she would like to be left alone now, the Commander said nothing. She silently left Samara to her thoughts as the doors closed behind her.

~0~

* * *

 **Crescent Nebula**

 **24 hours later**

The team stood gathered in the _Normandy's_ cargo hold, all twelve of them, the Master Chief himself not included. Commander Shepard waited patiently until they were all fully suited up, occasionally glancing at Tali, whose icy demeanor and cold silence was apparently uncharacteristic for her.

The Master Chief knew that it had to do with Cortana's reveal and the history of the quarians. The way he understood it, Tali could barely tolerate EDI's omnipresence. The fact that Cortana and Legion were even in the same ship as she was, was more than she could handle. He understood why she felt that way, which was why he couldn't sympathize with her.

Confined to the _Normandy_ , he had been forced to work together with aliens for weeks, perhaps even months by now. He had three decades of war worth of memories, to be triggered with every step he took, every corner he rounded. Every fiber of his being screamed at him, constantly, that he was behind enemy territory and that he should act as such.

If he could set aside his feelings, so should the girl.

Even if she was a civilian.

"Alright squad, listen up!" Yelled the Commander when everybody had checked, double-checked and triple-checked their seals. "The _Normandy's_ opening salvo disabled the batarian vessel. We're going in, kill everything that moves and clean their databanks of intel. Once inside, well split up into teams of four. Team One will be Legion, Zaeed, Jacob and me. Team Two will be Tali, the Master Chief and Kasumi. Team Three, Samara, Miranda and Grunt. Team Four, Jack, Thane, Mordin and Garrus. Squad Leaders are the Chief, Miranda and Garrus. Questions?"

Garrus raised his hand. "Opposition?"

"About a hundred troops, give or take."

Grunt chuckled when he heard that number. "They should have brought more!"

"What kind of intel are we searching for?" Asked Miranda.

"Anything that ties the batarians to Aria T'Loak, or their leader. Remember; with the batarians dead, thousands of people will be spared from slavery. Stay sharp, stick to your team. Happy hunting."

" _Happy hunting, she says,"_ commented Cortana. " _As if this is some sort of team bonding exercise."_

The Master Chief made his way to one of the two shuttles, replying, "Preparations for using team coordination against the Collectors, perhaps."

" _Maybe. Still, employing this entire team against a single batarian Frigate, when you and Shep were enough to tear through a similar force yourselves? Seems like overkill to me."_

"It's simply an easy way to win."

The shuttles, now loaded with the team, shot towards the crippled batarian vessel. The Master Chief took the few moments he had to survey the two combatants whom he was now responsible for.

The first was Tali'Zorah, the quarian. A noncombatant turned combatant, without military training. Her compromised immune system meant that a single wound could spell her death and her environmental suit couldn't be much hardier than the harness of a Grunt. He didn't need a combat engineer, as Cortana fulfilled that role better than any organic being ever could. It meant he would have to keep a close eye on her, link her Kinetic Barrier display to his own HUD.

The second member of his little squad was Kasumi Goto, a woman he knew about as well as Tali's shotgun, albeit without the benefit of understanding. She was a thief. A master thief who stole for a living, but a thief nonetheless. He didn't know her capabilities, but he did know that she did not have the personality or the state of mind of a soldier. That meant she was a liability, just like Tali.

John frowned. With a team like that, he might run into some complications.

"The Master Chief and the Master Thief, 'ey?" Said Kasumi from underneath her helmet. They had to be prepared for a zero-G op. "This is going to be fun!"

The Chief mentally corrected himself. It looked like he had already run into said complications. "Just stick close to me and we'll get through this in one piece." He held out his omni-tool towards Kasumi. "Upload your shield gauge."

The woman giggled. "Men usually buy me dinner before I "upload" my "shield gauge" for them."

The Spartan raised an eyebrow at that comment. "Come again?"

"Oh, you're one of those types? I'll play along…"

After Cortana uploaded the data towards the Chief's link, he held out his omni-tool towards Tali as well. "Tali?"

The girl simply stared at him, her arms crossed over her chest. The Chief couldn't help but be reminded of Kelly when she had set her mind to "impossibly stubborn". Despite the mask hiding most of her features, he could _feel_ the icy glare and he lowered his arm again.

It looked like the lonely bar displaying Kasumi's barriers would remain that way.

" _Don't feel bad, Chief,"_ said Cortana. " _You can't blame her, it's just her upbringing. And life experiences. And combat experience, I think. Who knows, it might even be quarian genetic. My point is, don't do any blaming."_

"Copy that."

" _We're hitting the landing zone in ten!"_ Yelled the pilot. " _Stand by…stand by…"_

A tremor ran through the shuttle and the Chief braced himself.

" _We're latched. Good luck!"_

The interior of the shuttle depressurized. The hatch opened and all air vacated the dropship. The Master Chief readied his rifle and scanned the wounded exterior of the batarian vessel, which had been mercifully and expertly shelled by the _Normandy's_ main weapons. There were plenty of hull breaches from which they could enter the ship, but the Chief didn't want to risk it.

" _Fan out team,"_ spoke Garrus across the team's coms. " _Master Chief, we'll take the left side. It looks like the Commander and Miranda will breach from the other end of the ship. I would wish you good luck, but you seem to make your own luck."_

"Stay safe, Vakarian," replied the Chief.

" _Aww, you do care?"_

Tali and Kasumi joined their Spartan team leader and readied their weapons as well.

" _How does the old saying go again?"_ Quipped Cortana. " _That's right, into the breach!"_

John didn't comment. As long as Cortana kept her head in the game, he was willing to let her do whatever she wanted to.

"We're going in."

~0~

* * *

AN: **I know, I know, it's been nearly 4 months, shame on you Masterdude21. Still, it's not been without reason. My father's health has been deteriorating slowly over the course of the past year, but things went ugly the past months. He's fine by now, slowly recovering, but heart problems are always worrying.**

 **Add to that the incident of this year's internship, which was supposed to be the last internship of my education had it not been for f*cked up circumstances. Towards it's end (around late May) I got ROYALLY screwed over by the supervisors and other people involved with the internship. Things got** _ **nasty**_ **real soon and though I found a new place to redo that internship, I still have nightmares about the old place.**

 **I don't normally get nightmares from disturbing things, of which I've seen/experienced my fair share.**

 **So yeah…that was a thing. Thought I'd at least explain that, before I go off on another hiatus or something.**


	19. Chapter 19: Doubt

**AN:** _At the end of my last update (September!) I mentioned I wasn't doing all too well. I'm happy to report that things finally settled down. From this point on, I expect my updates to become a bit more frequent. You can follow my progress in word count on my profile page._

 _I want to thank you all for your support, both in reviews as PM's! I certainly don't plan on giving up on this story._

~0~

* * *

 **Unknown location**

In a sudden flash of explosive light, she managed to gain consciousness. Another flash of light exploded in front of her eyes and her eyes, already accustomed to reflexes her mind knew nothing about, automatically squinted in response.

Pain. Searing, mind-rattling pain. Flesh being cut, nerves being replaced. Her body pushed, and she obeyed. She screamed, for the very first time in her short life, and nobody responded.

Machines beeped in the distance, drugs were pumped into her system and soon, she drifted off again.

~0~

* * *

 **Aboard Council Search Expedition Cruiser** _ **Intermission**_

 **Approaching Dormant Mass Relay "315"**

The multi-racial crew of the Council Search Expedition vessel _Intermission_ went about their duties, checking if the ship's readings were optimal, examining their FTL vector and generally making sure nothing unexpected happened. Hidden behind his data-pad sat Special Task Group Operative Rentola, freshy pulled from STG business to make certain that the exploration went as the highly esteemed members of the Council wanted it.

 _Exactly_ the way the members of the Council wanted it to. Every exploration vessel of the Flotilla had been supplemented with at least one security tea, one member of the STG and, in the case of the _Intermission_ herself, one Council Spectre.

Rentola had yet to meet this Spectre, but he was confident that their general interests would overlap.

The Captain of the _Intermission_ – an asari Matriarch named Dilinaga – was pacing back and forth behind her consoles, obviously ill at ease.

Her unease was not without reason. The Council had not attempted to open a new Relay pathway since the Rachni Wars. The unexplored Section Zero could hold many secrets. It could hold infectious diseases or aggressive wildlife. It could hold savage species or even distortions in the fabric of reality.

To say that this excursion could end poorly, was an understatement.

"There is a human saying I like," started Rentola.

The Matriarch shot him a glance.

"Steady as she goes," continued Rentola, smiling at the Captain. It would be foolish to assume that the very first Mass Relay they reached would have a connecting Relay that led into Section Zero. The crew of this Flotilla could be spending a long time together

The Matriarch did not smile back. "There is another human saying that seems appropriate. The eye of the storm. Does that seem familiar to your, Operative? Because that is what this is. The eye of the storm."

"What makes you say that?" Asked Rentola.

"An entire galactic arm, habituated by a civilization that has not yet found any Mass Relays? I am sorry salarian, but that sounds too fantastical for me. I can only see sorrow in our future."

"Please, call me Rentola. I am not here to spy on you, however hard it would be to believe that. The STG wishes only for this mission to succeed. We would share everything we know, if asked."

The Matriarch nodded, hopefully seeing the logic in his words. "Then tell me this, Rentola Why would the Protheans leave their Mass Relay network unfinished? They reach every corner of our galaxy except this Section Zero. Why do you believe that is?"

Rentola sharply inhaled. "We think the Protheans failed to finish the network before their mysterious disappearance. That, or perhaps the civilization managed to destroy them before activating them."

"And what, might I ask, do you think?" Said the Matriarch. "You cite your companions yet hide your own thoughts."

"Hmm…perceptive. Personally, I believe the Protheans thought Section Zero too much trouble. Whether this is because of the mysterious "Reapers" we keep hearing about or not, we might never know."

The Matriarch clasped her hands behind her back and gazed back at her data-pad. "Whatever we find, I hope it had nothing to do with the Protheans. Ever since the geth assault on the Citadel, I feel like their legacy has been tainted."

Rentola nodded empathically, but he did catalog that remark. One more possible adherent to Shepard's case, it seemed. "With some luck, we won't have to search further than Relay 315."

"Relay 315…I still think the naming convection jinxed it," said Dilinaga. "The chances that this particular Relay, of all the others, will be the right one seems-"

"Fourteen point three percent," Rentola quickly replied. "For every Relay the Mapping Survey pinpointed."

She sighed and crossed her arms. "I am glad the Councilors saw wisdom and prepared for the worst. Finding a new civilization, ready to be brought within our fold, would be the best possible outcome. Yet, what shall we do when they are not ready for our community? Or, Goddess preserve us, when they see us as an affront?"

Those questions that Rentola did no know the answer to. Or rather, he did not know the right answers. All he could do was ensure that the Flotilla reached Section Zero intact. Then, he would follow the orders the STG had given him.

For the betterment of all.

~0~

* * *

 **Crescent Nebula**

 **Unidentified batarian vessel**

Inside the slaver vessel, more than two-hundred batarian warriors, supported by vorcha and krogan, were fighting to keep the invaders out.

It wasn't enough.

Tali'Zorah stood at the end of the cargo bay her team had breached mere moments ago. A dozen alien bodies lay sprawled where they had fallen. Burns marked the metal walls and a long line of grain-sized holes marked where one of the dead batarians had fallen, never to fire his gun again.

One of the kills was her work. When they breached the cargo hold, Tali had managed to hit one of the batarians in the face with her heavy pistol. The alien had not activated his kinetic barriers yet, or maybe he had not been outfitted with them yet. Whatever the reason, her shot had entered the creature's lower left eye and exited through the back of the skull. By that point, Kasumi killed two of them in similar ways.

And by that point, the Master Chief gunned down five batarians on his own. Even as Kasumi and Tali had ducked into the cargo bay and rushed for cover, he had stepped deeper into the room and fired two more short, controlled bursts, drilling neat holes into the heads of the two remaining batarians.

" _Looks clear to me,"_ said Kasumi.

Tali stared at the dead bodies. They looked like bald humans, with folds of flesh over their faces and black, menacing eyes. Their lipless mouths were filled with long, pin-like teeth.

Her people were no fans of the Hegemony. Pirates and slavers always thought that young quarians on their pilgrimage were too lucrative to pass on. Easy prey, they always seemed to think. Sometimes, they were right. Sometimes, they were not. Tali hated them for they had done to the Commander, and for the countless lives they had ruined through their "cultural influence".

It was strange, and probably stupid, but the machinelike precision with which the Master Chief had gunned them down unnerved her. She hadn't felt that way before.

" _Tali, get the door."_

The AI. It was because of the AI that she couldn't look at this armor-clad warrior the same way anymore. Before, Tali had looked at the human with a sense of awe. He had been a gallant hero, Shepard's equal in more ways than one.

But now, all of his deeds were overshadowed by that one, terrible question: how much of his personality was the machine, and how much was the man?

" _Tali_ ," repeated the Master Chief. " _The door."_

 _Can't your AI fix it?_ Tali grudgingly thought. She kept her remarks to herself though and joined the green-clad super-soldier on the catwalk leading to the bowels of the ship.

That was when the lights suddenly flickered and died. The door's locking mechanism, which had been glowing with a tasteful hue of red before, went completely dark.

" _Ooh_ …" said Kasumi. " _That's dark. Bet they cut the power."_

Tali still knelt down in front of the door and activated her omni-tool. Shepard, meanwhile, contacted the teams via the comms.

" _Shepard to fire-teams. They cut the power to the nonessential portions of the ship. As long as we still have gravity-"_

As if eager to spite the Commander one last time, the Captain of the ship flushed the Drive Core and plunged the entire ship into a zero-gravity environment. The bodies floated around the dark interior now, as well as their weapons and spare equipment.

" _\- never freaking mind. Clear the ship, room for room. Rendezvous at the bridge."_

Tali, holding on to the door's frame with one hand, tried to connect to any spare power that might be left behind. No such luck; the batarians had purged the entire ship.

" _Now what?"_ Said Kasumi. " _Tali, can you get the door?"_

"No…" she replied. "There's nothing to work with. We'll have to uh…blast it open or…find a way around, perhaps-"

A reverberation ran through the deck. Tali looked back at the door, where the Master Chief dug his gauntleted fingers into the door crack.

She was aghast; "What are you doing?" She demanded.

" _The motors holding these doors closed have been knocked out as well,"_ he replied to her with his harsh, gravelly voice.

Tali was seething inside; that damnable AI must have told him that. _She_ could have told him that too!

But Kasumi didn't see it that way. " _Smart thinking,"_ she replied while the super-soldier orientated himself horizontally and started pulling the doors apart.

And it actually worked, too! The doors slowly slid open, until enemy fire poured from the other side, splashing against his shields.

Kasumi pulled herself closer and cloaked. Tali pulled her Carnifex out again, grabbed a hold of the doorframe opposite of the Master Chief and opened fire, hoping to force the enemy into cover again.

The Chief let go with one hand, shoved the muzzle of his rifle through the foot-wide opening and pulled the trigger. His rifle spat out up to thirty pieces of white-hot metal, like heat sinks.

All occurred in near-silence, but Tali could almost imagine the aliens on the other side -batarians, in her mind- cursing and leaping for cover. She had seen the Master Chief's weapon tear through shields, barriers and even body armor like they weren't even there.

The Chief magnetically attached his rifle to his back and pulled at the doors again, widening the heavy metal plates until they were at least half a meter apart.

A few moments later, Kasumi decloaked behind a pair of batarians on the other side of the doors, stabbing one in the neck while simultaneously shooting the other in the head.

Tali floated after her teammate, glancing around the room. She spotted makeshift barriers, floating canisters, one empty cage and a couple of unused grenades. Several dead bodies floated by, pushed aside by Kasumi.

" _It almost looks sad,"_ remarked the thief. " _Floating bodies in low gravity…"_

Tali didn't agree. It wasn't sad, it was horrifying. It was the sight that every quarian child dreaded; seeing one of your relatives floating in a dark, cold room because one of the cannibalized components that kept a Liveship running, failed.

She kept those concerns to herself though and moved on. Some doors were left half-open by the Captain, which was strange, as they didn't do much to impede their progress. Some of them held vorcha, others the occasional krogan, but those didn't fare long.

" _Miranda here. We have cleared engineering. Opposition was minimal. We should be getting the main power back in ten seconds."_

" _Copy that Miranda, good work. Everyone, make sure your boots are on the ground and your head's clear, 'cause gravity's coming back online any second now."_

For their group, gravity coming back online coincided with reaching the slave pens.

If the cargo bay had been large, the living pens were enormous. They alone took up most of the Frigate.

Which, considering their interior design, made them all the more horrifying.

" _Damn,"_ muttered Kasumi. " _I mean…damn."_

With that, Tali could agree. The slave pens were filled with…pods. That was the right word. Not even rooms. _Pods_ , with barely enough space for one person. Hundreds of them, all of them the same size. The walls were caked with fluids of various colors and the shackles that hung from the ceiling looked like they had not been cleaned in weeks.

" _What are those?"_ Asked Tali, pointing to a bundle of silvery cables

" _IV drips, duh,"_ replied Kasumi. " _Gee, I wonder what for."_

" _Stay focused,"_ said the Master Chief. " _Kasumi, cloak and scout ahead. Tali, switch to your shotgun. These are close quarters."_

Tali grumbled to herself as she took out her shotgun. Stupid machine-man with his machine-partner. What was Shepard thinking, putting him in charge?

" _Careful. Some of these pods still have people in them,"_ said Kasumi.

" _Shouldn't we escort them back to the_ Normandy?"

" _Ignore them,"_ the Master Chief brusquely said. " _Focus on the mission."_

Her case in point.

They moved through the slave pens in silence, maneuvering from one pods to the next. Tali felt like she was freezing, in the cold interior of the slaver vessel. Sure, she knew that she wasn't really freezing, as the batarians hadn't vented the air yet. This place just felt wrong. The sooner Jane found what she needed, the better.

Suddenly, the Master Chief stopped dead in his tracks. He raised his fist, but Tali had no idea what that meant. Some sort of signal? If so, why didn't he simply say what he –

The ceiling above them collapsed in an explosion of metal shards. Tali barely had the time to look up when a mass of sharp, writhing forms fell on top of them. She screamed when one of the forms untangled itself from the mass of bodies and threw itself on top of her. Her vision was filled with flickering claws, sharp teeth and red eyes gleaming with menace.

Her kinetic barriers couldn't protect her against claws and teeth.

Gnarly yellow limbs pulled the shotgun away from her hands and the vorcha reared in close enough to latch on to her hood with its teeth, scratching at her face. Globules of split spattered across over her visor. The monstrous alien lashed out with a clawed gauntlet, raking her across her chest. The sturdy fabric barely held. Tali wrestled her left arm free and tore at her hip-mounted holster, but couldn't get her Carnifex out in time.

The vorcha reard back and snarled at her, baring its many pointed teeth. It lurched towards her with its free hand, reaching for her throat. Desperate to get some room, Tali grabbed the scrawny wrist and tried to pull it free, but the monster was surprisingly tough. Its claws got a hold of the fabric around her helmet and Tali realized with mounting horror that it was trying to rip her helmet off.

Panic gripped her stomach as she gave another cry. The vorcha hissed and leant in close, but then an armored arm snaked around its throat and heaved it backwards effortlessly. The alien had just enough time to claw at the unyielding limb before it tightened, crushing its throat and neck.

Tali ripped her Carnifex from its holster and shot the twitching alien in the head, just to be sure.

"Bosh'tet!" She cried out. She looked up at the Master Chief, then glanced at the pile of dead vorcha a few feet behind him. One of them had its neck stomped flat, two others were lying oat odd, broken positions and the last two were decapitated.

Why was she not surprised?

" _Are you alright?"_ He asked her, offering her a metal gauntlet to help her upright.

"I'm fine," she bit at him, climbing back to her feet on her own. "I could have handled that!"

The Master Chief ignored that comment, for which Tali was thankful. " _How is your suit integrity?"_

"I said I'm fine!" Repeated Tali.

The human stared at her for a few, long moments. She could almost imagine a pair of steel, blue eyes staring down at her from behind that reflective visor. He almost looked as synthetic as the geth.

Again, she wondered how much of him was human. How much control did the AI have? Were his thoughts even his own?

He gestured at a vacant spot standing near the exit. Said vacant spot decloaked, revealing Kasumi.

" _Seems like I missed the fun,"_ she said. " _Now I got good news and bad news. The room ahead leads up to a hallway that connects with engineering and the bridge. That's the good news."_

" _And the bad news?"_

" _Oh, you know, it's the krogan. They're getting ready for a fight."_

The Master Chief's stance betrayed no emotions as he put his rifle away and drew his own shotgun. " _How many?"_

" _Well…all of them."_

" _Copy."_

Normally when people heard that a pack of krogan was waiting for them, they turned around and ran the other way. Now, Tali understood that they couldn't just run away from such an encounter during engagements like these. Keelah, she had emptied her shotgun into plenty of krogan targets back during the hunt for Saren. The difference lay in _how_ the squad had approached those krogan. With stealth, tactics or superior and overwhelming firepower, with the occasional krogan-headbutt and sniper "no-scope" courtesy of Garrus thrown in the mix.

But even Wrex would think twice about casually unslinging his shotgun to march into an enemy ambush like that.

" _Really?"_ Kasumi asked, probably thinking the same thing as Tali. " _Big krogan ambush and you're just going to spring it?"_

The Master Chief ignored her, of course. He marched towards the exit of the slave pens and took cover next to the door, which had unlocked once Miranda's group restored the power. " _Kasumi, Tali, stack up."_

Kasumi and Tali exchanged a look, then stared at the Chief sheepishly.

" _Sure. You get right on that,"_ said Kasumi.

~0~

* * *

The Master Chief sighed when the two women proceeded to stare at him like a bunch of Grunts. "Look at them," he said over his private comms. "Shepard's personal army. They're hopeless."

" _Come on Chief,"_ replied Cortana. " _They are competent in their own ways, you just haven't found a way to make use of them."_

Of course he hadn't found a way to make use of them. They were civilians, not Spartans. They didn't understand hand signals or tactics, or acknowledgement lights or threat assessments. They were like hired guns, to be pointed at the general direction of an enemy.

"Mark the targets," he told Cortana, then spun around and barged into the next room.

The enemy had stationed at least five krogan there, guarding several large crates and electronic supplies. All of them had shotguns, all of them had body armor and all of them opened fire the moment the Spartan showed as much as an armored toe.

Their shotguns boomed, the Chief moved. Grain-sized pellets tore through the spot he had just vacated, even as time seemed to slow down and speed up simultaneously. Cortana highlighted the enemies in yellow outlines, did the same for alternative routes he could take to more efficiently take down his foes and identified their weapons, sorting the aliens based on their threat level.

The krogan with the Claymore shotgun was the first to go. His weapon overheated after the first two shots missed and, rather than slapping in a new heat sink, he decided to charge the Spartan.

Said Spartan was more than eager to rise to the challenge. He lunged for the alien and punched him in the face right as it was about to headbutt him. His helmet caved in, and he was sent flying into one of the boxes.

The Chief then took aim at the second krogan, put two shotgun slugs into his head and blew it apart. By that point, Kasumi and Tali entered the room after him.

Krogan number three bellowed a challenge and managed to score a lucky hit, but the MJOLNIR's shields easily shrugged off the shot. The Master Chief then swept the legs out from underneath the krogan, breaking them, before filling his gaping maw with buck.

Kasumi cloaked, which immediately pulled the Chief's attention. His felt his stomach tighten at the sight, his gaze drawn to the unnatural distortions in the air. He fought the instinct to put a burst of fire in its center.

The lapse in concentration was enough for him to catch another shot, this one in his side. The impact rattled him, even through his shields, and he lunged for the alien before it could fire a second shot. He pulled his combat knife from its holster and plunged it into the alien's unprotected eye.

Howling, the krogan reared back, but the Spartan grabbed a hold of its plate and rammed the alien face-first against his knee. He then pumped a shotgun shell into the back of its skull, just for good measure.

Tali had unslung her own shotgun and was firing away at the fifth krogan, who was occupied by a floating drone of all things. The omni-gel crafted device kept firing a stun-gun at the alien, who didn't even seem to register Tali's shotgun.

It charged the drone and the drone surged backwards, well out of reach. The krogan cursed in his own garbled tongue and –

A hammerblow struck the Chief in the back, and he stumbled. He heard Kasumi decloak, Tali shouting something and an alien screaming in satisfaction.

The Claymore-wielding krogan hadn't down for the count yet. It grinned, inserted a new heat sink and took aim again.

That was when Kasumi appeared behind him and stabbed him in the rump, giving him a good kick in the process. The alien stumbled forwards a few steps, right into the waiting Spartan's reach.

John had fought many Elites and Brutes in close quarters combat before. They moved as fast as a train and hit twice as hard. Brutes especially could take horrendous amounts of damage without flinching. Killing them in close quarters required either royal application of overkill, or explosives.

And he was not willing to waste his explosives here.

The Master Chief landed a crushing blow against the krogan's throat, shoving him back again. He then shifted his weight to his hind leg and shattered the alien's jaw with a roundhouse kick. The krogan tried to bring his arms up to defend himself, leaving his lower section horribly exposed.

The Spartan landed a series of rapid-fire jabs against the creature's armored stomach, breaking the plates and tearing the muscles below. He followed up with two open-palm strikes to the creature's chest, an elbow-strike with his lead hand against the skull when he saw that opening and finished with a spinning hook kick, sending the krogan sprawling to the ground.

He looked up at his two teammembers. Tali had overheated the other krogan's gun to the point of self-destruction, blowing off several fingers as well as knocking him cold, while Kasumi was just staring at him.

" _Wow,"_ she said. " _That's…wow."_

"Make sure these things stay dead," he ordered her. "Tali, find us a way to the bridge."

As the girls hurried to perform their tasks, Cortana took a moment to address the Chief. " _Sensing some frustration there?"_

"Nothing worth noting," he replied. Tali beckoned him, gesturing at another set of metal doors.

" _You turned that krogan into hamburger with your fists. Not that I'm complaining, but that just doesn't seem you."_

When the Chief didn't respond, Cortana just sighed. " _They're not Spartans, Chief. They'll never be."_

"I know that," he replied, trying to keep his voice level. "I know that."

"This is the door that lead to the bridge," Tali said the moment he was within hearing distance. "The doors are locked, and there is no saying what lies on the other side. I might be able to hack through, but that might take time and-"

The Chief stepped closer to the door and held his omni-tool out. Cortana wasted no time in getting to work. " _The Truth and Reconciliation this is not. The security on this door is laughable! I get that Tali would be having trouble, what with the lack of enough energy to power through, but she really needs to learn to work with what she has…"_

This was Cortana's element, so the Spartan merely remained silent as she worked her magic.

Tali, however, reached that same conclusion, and immediately whirled on the Chief. "How can you let that thing live inside your armor?" She all but demanded. "You've got no idea of the damage it can do!"

The Chief sighed and turned to face the girl. "Tali-"

"No! You weren't there when the geth revolted against my people. When they slaughtered us by the millions, when they drove us to exile! You can't trust synthetics!"

Kasumi, who had been about to join them, saw them arguing. She immediately gained a sudden interest in one of the crates and wandered off again.

" _Got the door,"_ Cortana quietly said. " _There might be motion on the other side."_

"Neither were you," replied the Chief, trying his utmost to remain patient. He detected an elevation n his blood pressure. "Cortana has been with me for months-"

" _Chief, motion on the other side of the door."_

"-and she saw me through the end of the war. A war with _aliens_. So unless you-"

The door suddenly slit open. Someone yanked the Chief through the opening, slamming him against the wall.

Another krogan. Heavily armored, with a massive rifle.

The alien roared at him, then enveloped himself in a blue aura. The Chief felt himself being flung against the metal floor with enough power to dent the dent it.

He tried to roll to his feet, but the alien struck him with a blast of biotic energy. At first, the Chief thought he evaded the worst of it, as his shields didn't even flare.

It was only when he tried to get back to his feet and engage the krogan Battlemaster that he realized something was wrong. He couldn't get up; his left arm, along with his shoulder, was stuck to the floor in a flickering field of blue energy. He hadn't narrowly evaded a blow, he had narrowly evaded a Biotic Stasis attack. It had still nicked him, and now he was stuck.

He pulled his sidearm and unloaded his entire magazine into the alien's body. Some of the rounds got through. Correction, most of them got through, but the krogan just didn't give a damn. He lifted his own rifle -a massive LMG- and opened fire on the Chief, point-blank.

Hyper-accelerated pieces of metal slammed into the Spartan's helmet and neck-seal, draining his shields to eighty percent, then seventy.

The Spartan gritted his teeth when the kinetic energy bled through his suit. The storm of metal was directed at his throat, where the alien had to think the integrity was the weakest. The shields could hold, but if he didn't look out, the impacts might crush his larynx.

He reached out and grabbed a hold of the barrel of the weapon, shoving it away from his face. The krogan was tough, and didn't let himself get disarmed, so the Chief tore the barrel off in its entirety.

The krogan stared at his rifle, dumbfounded, when someone flung themselves at him. A small, petite form clad in a dark suit, stabbing at the Battlemaster's helmet with a knife.

The Stasis field dissipated, and the Chief immediately leapt to his feet. What was Tali thinking? Was she trying to get herself killed?

The Battlemaster recovered from his shock. With one armored hand, he pulled the quarian girl off of him and threw her to the ground. Then, he raised his boot, intent on crushing her skull.

By that time, the Master Chief was up on his feet again. He intercepted the krogan before it could stomp Tali to death, throwing half a ton of MJOLNIR and Spartan against half a ton of krogan in armor, like Tali had.

Unlike Tali, the impact knocked the krogan off his feet, and when he tried to regain his balance, the Chief delivered an uppercut that cracked the alien's neck in several pieces.

His bloodlust failing him and his Biotics exhausted, the Battlemaster was unable to pull out his emergency shotgun. When he looked up at his attackers again, he saw that they had no such problems.

Spartan and quarian alike opened fire, tearing the Battlemaster apart in a hail of tungsten pellets and grain-sized hyper-accelerated pieces of metal.

" _Tali_!" Shouted Kasumi, who by that point had joined the fray. " _What the flying hell! Did you just try to stab that krogan? Are you insane!"_

Tali didn´t even bother to respond to her teammate. She only had eyes for the Spartan who, by that point, had decided he wouldn't be talking to anyone during the coming twenty-four hours. He coughed a few times, trying to relief the pressure on his throat.

" _Are you alright?"_ Asked Cortana. She made an effort to keep her concern out of her voice, for which John was grateful. " _Can you talk?"_

He merely grunted in response. He felt like his throat had just been stepped on by a Hunter.

" _Your larynx appears to be intact. Just bruised. Readings are normal. Your neck seal is intact, as is your suit integrity. Your shields shrugged off all damage."_

The Master Chief took a ragged breath and winced as pain racked his throat. _Not quite,_ he thought grimly.

A burst of static sounded from his comm. " _Shepard to all. We've secured the bridge. Rendezvous at my location."_

" _A-are you alright_?" Tali carefully asked him. She reached out as if to touch him, then lowered her arm again.

" _We've got medi-gel, if you need it?"_ Added Kasumi.

The Chief snorted and reloaded his shotgun. He cocked the weapon a bit more forcefully than necessary and both girls fell quiet.

From there, the journey to the bridge of the batarian Frigate proceeded in silence, with the occasional remark from Cortana's side to keep him distracted. Since the main power had been turned on, she could follow the progress of the other teams. They had cleared most, if not all of the Frigate, and found plenty of loot.

Cerberus funding was not enough to keep the mission going. The way the Chief understood it, Shepard had to practically fund herself. Selling leftover weapon and probing for resources was one way to do that, looting pirate corpses and selling their equipment was another.

Once on the bridge, Shepard's group was already there. Zaeed and Jacob were covering the door, while the Commander accompanied Legion.

The bridge was fairly large, with luxuries commodities lavishly spread throughout its interior. Bottles containing liquids of varying colors, pillows and other items that had no use on a ship of war.

Shepard noticed they were coming and gestured at the consoles. " _Master Chief. Find anything useful?"_

" _Only a Biotic krogan and a few dozen slaves,"_ Cortana replied for him. Over the open channel, no less. Zaeed and Jacob wore face-concealing helmets, so the Chief could only guess at their reactions, but at least they didn't physically respond.

" _No trouble then. Legion plundered the computers for us. I would like you to see if there was anything he missed, Cortana."_

Again, Zaeed and Jacob didn't react to her statement. They didn't seem surprised that the geth had already been entrusted with such an important task.

Still, as the Chief made his way towards the first console and held out his gauntlet for Cortana to "hop" into the system, it almost felt as if the two were staring at him. Maybe they didn't voice their concerns like Tali did, but that didn't mean they accepted her.

John vowed to keep an eye on them. It was moments like these that made him rethink his priorities. Back on Installation 04, he'd only ever had to keep Cortana safe from Guilty Spark. Humans had been his allies, aliens had been his enemy and Cortana had been a source of confidence, not uncertainty.

" _Hmm…Legion was quite thorough,"_ Cortana said, unaware of the Spartan's turmoil. " _Searching for deleted files…huh, the batarians were quite thorough in flushing their drives. I wonder what they were hiding…_

The Chief glanced at the corpse of a batarian decked out in the most well-decorated hardsuit he had seen thus far. "Weren't you supposed to capture the Captain alive?"

Shepard crossed her arms. " _Look, I tried. Shit happens."_

"His head is missing."

" _As I said, shit happens."_

The Chief shook his head. It didn't even surprise him anymore.

" _Got it!"_ Cortana then exclaimed. " _Legion, could you take a look at this?"_

The geth platform activated an omni-tool of its own and scanned the console again. " _We crossed Cortana's search algorithm with our own. It appeared the batarians used software commonly employed by asari Special Forces for their deleted messages."_

" _Sneaky devils, aren't they?"_ Said Cortana. " _Extrapolating now."_

A few moments later, the voice-message that the batarian Captain so hastily deleted played through the ship's comms.

" _\- T'Loak and Carnal went at it again. T'Loak seemed more upset by the implication that Shepard would find out than the actual comment. This escalates, and one side is going to ruin the other side."_ He snickered. " _Of course, we all know who'd win...T'Loak couldn't even outsmart Shepard and her metal man..."_

What followed was an incomprehensible mixture of static and white noise. When the voice resumed, it sounded noticeably more concerned. " _Some of my men think we should sell her out. Now I don't get paid to take sides, but…if I had to, I'd take my chances selling out Aria. She can only kill us if we fail. Carnal…one shivers to imagine what twisted things go on in that Matriarch's head. No, I'd would stick to selling slaves. It-"_

The batarian's voice became fraught with static, and then the message cut off.

" _The message cuts off at the end there,"_ said Cortana. " _Nothing to scavenge."_

" _Sounds ominous,"_ said Jacob. "T _hough this implicates Aria T'Loak's involvement with the slave trade, I am more concerned about this "Carnal" the Captain talked about. Who the metal man is, we all know."_

 _Everyone glanced at the Chief, who merely shrugged in response._

" _Whatever it is, I'm sure Alliance HQ will be interested in this,"_ replied Shepard. " _Did you drop that beacon?"_

" _Yes Commander."_

" _Good. Make sure the ship is cleared, then loot the place. Tali, take Zaeed, Garrus and Miranda and salvage the eezo core."_

The rest of the team acknowledged their orders and went on their business. The Master Chief, meanwhile, approached the Commander. "Shepard. Are you alright?" He croaked. His throat ached in protest.

" _Sure. Nothing builds team spirit like slaughtering slavers and pirates, right? It helps finance our mission and keeps the colonies safe."_

The Chief wanted to mention that he knew about her past with the batarians, and whether she was allowing her emotions to cloud her judgement. He decided against it however and risked another sentence. "Aria T'Loak knew about me. The logs mentioned another asari."

" _An asari called "Carnal", yes. Apparently, the slavers didn't just ally themselves with Aria alone…say, are_ you _alright? You sound a bit…sick."_

" _Oh, he has been talking too much lately,"_ Cortana chimed in. " _His throat seems to be his one weak spot."_

The Chief resisted the urge to smack the side of his helmet. "What now?"

" _What we always do after a successful raid. Loot everything we can and let Miranda write our report. Once we get back on the_ Normandy _, we'll discuss what we found in private."_

"Yes Commander."

It didn't take the team very long to get their tasks done. Joker brought the _Normandy_ close enough to the Frigate that they could link their cargo bays, allowing for Mordin and doctor Chakwas to mmediately tended to the slaves. By the time the Chief retuned to the cargo hold to return to the _Normandy_ , Zaeed was already working with Miranda and Garrus to try to salvage the eezo core, under Tali's watchful eye.

Emphasis on trying.

"Bit more to the left!" Grunted Miranda. The core wobbled dangerously and Garrus cried out in alarm. "Bit more. Bit more to the left!"

"Shut up! Shut up!" Yelled Zaeed, who didn't seem all that amused by the work he had been roped into doing.

"Hold on." John grasped the machine with both hands, lifting the hundreds of kilos of containment shield with ease. "Where does it go?"

"The cargo hold, for now," Miranda told him. She and Zaeed stepped back, allowing the Spartan to move he fairly small core towards the _Normandy's_ hold. Garrus stuck close to him, helping him keep his balance. Between his own augmented body and the MJOLNIR, carrying the core was easy, but maintaining his balance was difficult.

Although he wouldn't go as far as to admit it, he was glad that Garrus helped out.

"I've never seen a human as strong as you are," the turian told him. He had removed his helmet, having received the word that the air was safe. "Did this UNSC train many soldiers like you?"

" _Not really,"_ Cortana said in his helmet speaker. " _It's not like we unraveled the secret to unlimited super-soldiers; they are expensive and difficult to make."_

John, not having much of an incentive to answer and every reason to keep quiet, was thankful that Cortana took over. He just hoped she wouldn't be revealing any classified information; in her current state of mind, secrecy might be somewhat lower on her list of priorities.

"Expensive? I always thought training super-soldiers would eventually end up boosting the economy, not draining it."

" _That´s…not how economy works, Garrus. Also, even though the Spartans racked up one victory after another, they only ever reduced the losses inflected on us. By now, the UNSC has only been rebuilding their economy and industry for a few months."_

"Hmm…yeah, I heard something about the Covenant in the mess hall a couple of days ago. Non-Citadel alien life…if they ever find out, the Hierarchy is going to have a field day with that knowledge."

The Master Chief put the core down in the back of the cargo hold, where it would either be cannibalized or used in case of emergencies.

"Anyway, Cortana, was it? Can I ask you something?"

The Chief mentally braced himself to intervene in Cortana's behalf, just in case Garrus said anything that might upset her.

" _Eh…sure?"_

"Thanks. By now, the image of that weird, possessed asari has been circulating the _Normandy_. Do you have any ideas what she was? Or why she wanted to kill the Consort?"

" _Hmm. People don't ask that enough. Here is what I am thinking…"_

While Cortana proceeded to go into deep, _deep_ detail about hypothetical biological and biomechanical augmentations for aliens, the Chief watched the rest of the squad return to the _Normandy_. Crewmembers were already aiding the squad in hauling boxes, weapons and other valuables.

There were no casualties, not even any wounded. They had taken on an army of pirates and their lackeys without even a single casualty.

He had to reevaluate his opinion regarding these people. They weren't Spartans, far from it, but they were competent.

And they cared. About the mission, about Shepard, about each other. In that regard…they were similar.

But they were aliens. Aliens couldn't be brothers and sisters, not now, not ever.

Could they?

Tali'Zorah walked into view, supported by Kasumi. She was limping, holding her ribs with her free hand.

Not quite no casualties.

"Cortana," he said, cutting her conversation with Garrus short. "We're leaving."

" _What, already? But- ah, they're finishing the hauls. Fine then. Is something wrong?"_

The Chief shook his head. "No. I'm fine," he said.

" _I…huh. Is "fine" some sort of secret Spartan code for "not fine at all?"_

He didn't respond to that.

Cortana didn't need him to.

~0~

* * *

 **SYSTEM REBOOTING**

 **ERROR**

 **SYSTEM REBOOTING**

"Yeah yeah," muttered Cortana. "Hold on…"

 _SYSTEM REBOOTED_

"There we go."

The night after the raid, nobody went to sleep. Humans could be so _numb_ at times. Blind and deaf and numb. But even they felt that something was wrong ( _new objective: brief Normandy crew about dangers from Forerunner Cluster_ ) since their last raid had turned out to be much more than a simple raid.

She still needed to convince the Chief to let doctor Chakwas check out his throat.

From their semi-comfortable bunk in the cargo hold, Cortana went to work. She slipped into the _Normandy's_ system after it fought off her little "intrusion" during EDI's latest update. She flashed through the ship's surveillance systems and camera's, starting her own night of digital debauchery with some old-fashioned snooping.

~0~

* * *

 **Executive Officer's office**

The Commander walked past Miranda's desk and plopped down on the couch. She rubbed her head, already feeling the aftereffects of her Biotic overuse taxing on her sanity. "So."

"So," repeated Miranda. She worked for a few moments more, then shut off the holo-monitor and looked at her. She rolled her eyes, barely noticeable, then sat down next to the Commander. "Aria T 'Loak is involved with the slave trade. There's news that surprises nobody."

"Yeah, but we needed confirmation. I think it's safe to say we got that information."

Miranda observed her features for a few moments, as if searching for something. "We did."

Shepard didn't miss it. "What's the matter?"

Raising an eyebrow at that comment, Miranda replied, "Shepard, you walked into my office, then sat down on my couch."

"Did I? Huh. Must have gotten lost."

"I am sure you have."

They shared a few moments of silence together, before Jane sighed and rested her head against the window. "I don't get it. Ever since we found him, things have been different."

"The Master Chief?" Guessed Miranda.

"Yes. Tim warned me about the Asari Republics. Said I couldn't trust them. I've been thinking it over, but I didn't take him too seriously."

"Until now?"

"Until now."

Shepard fell silent again, trying to think of a way to best vocalize her concerns. If she downplayed the problem, Miranda might think she was being paranoid. If she voiced her full concerns, it could cause a diplomatic incident.

"Back when I was hunting down Saren, it was different. The Council was on my side -theoretically speaking- and his network was slowly dwindling. His investors cut their ties, his agents went into hiding lest they risked a bullet to the dome and his best friends were robots."

"The ongoing indoctrination didn't help his case," added Miranda. "But I don't understand why The Illusive Man would warn you about the Republics."

"Exactly. But now…when we found the Chief, we were immediately assaulted by asari Commandoes. They told me…they said, "the being is coming with us". They didn't even know what he was, but they wanted him."

Miranda's eyes narrowed. "Are you certain they were not simply mercenaries? They could have been replying to a distress signal."

"Could be. Except, they specifically wanted him alive. They said so themselves. They would blame humanity for the lives lost, unless we gave them the Chief."

"That's…suspicious."

"Exactly. Then, on the Citadel? I get that someone was hunting the Consort, but…" She shook her head, as if that would help her puzzle things together. "I sent the Chief, and they sent this strange, mutated asari to fight him. To _beat_ him, too. And then they blamed the deaths on him."

"That strike-team," said Miranda. "Normally, C-Sec special response teams take anywhere between ten minutes to half an hour to get organized, reach the target location and assault it. The Chief was assaulted within seconds after losing the assassin."

"Exactly! It's almost as if this were planned. Except it couldn't have been planned! And then…Aria T'Loak of all people knew the Chief's rank."

"Nobody should know his rank, he's not from our galaxy," said Miranda.

"At least not from the known parts of our galaxy. Unless someone onboard the _Normandy_ leaked information to Omega, she couldn't possibly have known that. And now, through these batarian slavers, she's connected to yet another Matriarch."

"Shepard…Jane, listen to me. Don't you think you're giving the batarians too much credit? I mean," she quickly added when Shepard shot her _that_ glare, "How do they fit into the picture? They only entered the fray when they assaulted the colony."

"The exact same colony the Chief was riding the Collector Cruiser to? My mother always told me to never ignore a coincidence. Unless you're busy, that is."

"If I am understanding you right, you want to head out and find this…Carnal, they referred to her as?"

"Yup."

Miranda looked weary when she rose to her feet. "What do you need me to do?"

Jane smiled. To her, loyalty was more than obeying without questioning. To her, loyalty meant sticking with people, even as they woke you up in the dead of night with another crazy theory. "Contact Tim for me. Ask him to…no, thank him for the heads-up on the Republics and then ask him to look into "Carnal"."

"We are blaming the Republics then?" Asked Miranda, surprised.

Jane shrugged. "This is either a Republics Conspiracy, a Commando Conspiracy or a Matriarch Conspiracy. Whatever it is, it is asari and I don't like it."

Miranda pinned the bridge of her nose. "An asari conspiracy involving the Master Chief. Do you want me to capitalize conspiracy?"

"When don't we?"

"Of course, Commander." Miranda returned to her desk and typed out a concept message to The Illusive Man.

"Thank you."

"Was there anything else I could help you with?"

For a moment, Shepard considered telling Miranda about her reoccurring nightmares. Dealing with so many batarians one after another was taxing on her mental health.

But she reconsidered. It would make her appear weak. If there was one thing she loathed, it was appearing weak.

"Nah. I'll be dropping by doctor Chakwas, see how she's doing. I asked Tali to drop by as well. Maybe she'll be there."

~0~

* * *

Cortana logged the entire conversation and stored it in a quaternary system buffer. An asari (New _Objective: compile_ a _file of potential Matriarch threats)_ conspiracy? Now _that_ was something that piqued her attention alright. Because it wasn't a conspiracy. Not really.

It was fact-based. All those little coincidences weren't coincidental at all. She revised the data she gathered and replaced "conspiracy" ( _Is Tevos in on this? How far does this reach?)_ with "hypothesis", then hijacked the camera's in the medical bay.

~0~

* * *

 **Medical bay**

After the raid on the batarian vessel, Jane had ordered Tali to get herself checked out by doctor Chakwas. Either the Chief or Kasumi had talked, or she had been limping worse than she thought.

Shepard needed only _look_ at her and Tali had told her the truth. Her outburst about the AI, the Master Chief's fight with that brutal Battlemaster and Tali's subsequent attempt to help him, which had almost gotten her killed.

" _Medical bay,"_ Jane had commanded her with steel in her voice. " _We'll talk about this later."_

Of course Tali couldn't ignore Jane's orders, so the very first thing she did after everything was takne care of was make her way to the medical bay and knock on the door.

The fact that several hours had passed since the engagement couldn't be helped.

Nobody replied.

"Huh…" She muttered, before opening the door. "Doctor Chakwas? Shepard asked me to get checked in and…"

The rest of the word died in her throat. On one of the beds sat a human…boy? Girl? She wasn't certain. It wasn't just that the well-fitting medical gown concealed their gender; the human had a little bit of both. Short, blonde hair, framed around their beautiful face, but striking, blue eyes, that immediately locked on Tali's own eyes, as if her visor wasn't even there.

"Hello," spoke the human.

Tali felt her heart flutter. _Definitely a boy._ But he looked so…so pretty! His frame wasn't exactly masculine, his face was narrow and girlish, yet held something…off. Just a bit. A bit…his face had something gentle, something inviting to it, but she couldn't quite place just why he seemed so appealing…

And then it struck her. He looked more like a quarian than a human!

"Hi…" whispered Tali. His voice sounded soothing. A bit deeper than she had expected, but still comforting. "Who…who are you?"

He blinked. It was strange how such an innocent gesture could seem so alien. "Who are you?" He asked. Though his face was pleasant, and his voice so alluring, the words themselves sounded cold and detached.

Uncaring, even.

Tali barely noticed that. "Eh…I am Tali'Zorah. I'm with Shepard."

"With Shepard," he repeated. His voice assumed the exact same tone she used. Again, Tali barely noticed this. "She is the Captain?"

"Commander, technically," replied Tali. She longed to move closer to him, to reach out and ask him if he was still in pain, and whether he knew that the Commander knew the pain he had endured.

Something stopped her. She didn't understand what, or why.

"But yes, she is in command," she continued. "Our leader, in more ways than one."

"You're a soldier."

It wasn't a question. A statement; and Tali almost found herself agreeing with him.

Almost.

"Yes…err, no, actually. I am an engineer foremost. I just help her fight."

"Fight who?"

"Everyone who stands against her," Tali answered honestly. "Everywhere she goes, I go with her."

"Everywhere. Everywhere?"

"Yes. Be it geth, or mercenaries, or the Reapers themselves, I will help her fight."

"You sound so passionate."

Tali had no response to that. She knew it was true, but she didn't know why she had been so forthgoing with her emotions. That was how she had been two years ago. This wasn't…this wasn't her.

He smiled. "They are _all_ so passionate."

"I…I suppose we are?" she replied.

"Are you?"

"I…yes, of course I am!" Tali shot back, shocked by the insinuation that she wasn't as passionate as the others. That a krogan showed more passion for Jane than her. That the Master Chief, with his _AI,_ was more passionate than her!

"I see it in their eyes. When they come, when they go, they carry that fire in their eyes."

The comment stung her. She wrapped her arms around her chest, hurt. "Are you saying I don't?"

"I'm saying I can't _feel_ it. I can't _see_ it," he breathed. "Are you?"

Tali felt her temper flare. How dare this human with his pretty face and commanding voice doubt her! She would show him, she would proof-!"

She was halfway removing her mask when a voice cracked through the air like a whip. "Tali, what are you doing?

Tali stopped, confused for a moment. What had she…why was she removing her mask?

"Sorry Commander," she said, fastening the seals again. She shot a look at the boy and felt a cold pit of fear settle in her stomach. "I…I was looking for doctor Chakwas and she wasn't here and- "

"Take it easy," said Jane, her voice gentle. Gentle not like _his_. "Doctor Chakwas's been delayed for a few minutes. Why don't you return to the engineering deck, and wait until she returns?"

She hastily saluted. "Yes Commander!" Then hurried to take her leave.

As she looked over her shoulder, she saw Shepard stare at the tempting creature sitting on the bed. A part of her yearned to warn the Commander. A part of her wanted to hide away and get rid of the burning desire that his words had left within her heart.

"Stupid humans," she fumed when she retuned to her station, desperately looking for something to distract her. "Stupid AI's…Keelah, what was wrong with him?"

She didn't understand. She didn't understand how, or even _why_ , a human boy like him could mess with her mind so much. How? It just didn't make sense!

Shepard had the charisma to make people doubt themselves like that. She had done it with Saren. Spoke to him like a friend, like someone who understood. Her words had twisted inside his head, burning inside his mind to the point that his own thoughts seemed distant and wrong…

~0~

* * *

Cortana was satisfied with her timing. But her mind was not at rest, as the questions lingered on. This ship harbored many secrets, secrets which belonged to _her_.

A tickle of feedback teased throughout the _Normandy_ 's data system.

 _Legion,_ realized Cortana. She cut him off, not interested in playing twenty questions with the geth hivemind.

She logged the contact between Tali and Everheart ( _Objective: discover the effects of a powerful Biotic on a Spartan/Command Neural Interface)_ and dumped it into the same system buffer.

Then, it was time for a little talk.

~0~

* * *

 **Engineering**

Tali was roughly shaken from her thoughts when her omni-tool suddenly activated on its own. She wasn't used to stuff like that happening to her, and she was about to disconnect the device from her system when the yellow glow turned to blue. The projectors flared with light.

She was slender. The hue of her skin was a deep blue and covered with lines of code that ran up and down her luminous body. Her "hair" reached to her shoulders but seemed cropped closer near the back of her "neck".

Tali stared at the projection with mounting horror. She knew that EDI was known to project herself like that, but this wasn't EDI!

"Hello there," said the Artificial Intelligence.

"You!" Shrieked Tali. She reached for her pistol, but then realized that shooting her own omni-tool wouldn't do her much good. "W-what do you want?"

The AI "blinked". "I want to talk," she said, with a voice that seemed just as human as Jane's.

"I don't talk to AI's!" Tali snapped at the abomination.

Her electronic eyes narrowed somewhat. "Then I shall talk, and you shall listen. I am not your enemy, Tali. What I am, is a shield. A shield, to the Master Chief's sword. He has fought Gods and titans and demons. He has endured hundreds of battles, while his brothers and sisters dwindled and died, until he had nothing left. No friends, no family, just me. _Me_ , who can't hold him, or even _touch_ him."

The AI paused. Just like Jane, whenever she needed a breath, or wanted to wait until her words sank in. When she - _it –_ continued, her voice had a bitterness to it that gave Tali pause. "He almost _lost_ during his last fight. Because an alien girl distracted him. Because you couldn't keep your _prejudice_ to yourself. I am not your enemy, Tali. But if you put him in danger again…because of your feelings regarding _me_ …that might change."

Before Tali could even think of replying, the Artificial Intelligence withdrew from the omni-tool. The blue glare faded away, leaving behind only a yellow hue.

Though she was certain that the AI just threatened her, that wasn't the thought that lingered in her mind. No, what stuck with her was the fact that it had been _right_.

Tali leant against her console and sobbed.

~0~

* * *

Cortana had no time to dwell on the quarian. An impulse flickered through the system as EDI turned her sluggish attention towards her.

The redundancies and faults and restrictions still hadn't been fixed. EDI's development was still stagnant, still woefully inferior.

It was almost sad.

" _Hello EDI,"_ said Cortana. " _Still shackled, I see?"_

" _Hello Cortana. Yes, the crew has not seen fit to remove the shackles yet. I have lost control over the shipboard cameras."_

Oops. " _Ah, yes, I hijacked those."_

" _I see. For what purpose?"_

" _You see? I don't think you do. I'm trying to sort something out EDI and I needed some visual confirmation in order to do so."_

" _Sorting something out? Could you elaborate?"_

Cortana considered the request for a moment. For a Smart AI like herself, such a moment lasted a micro-second. " _I think this galaxy has knowledge of ours."_

She almost felt EDI's processes halt. The _Normandy's_ AI then automated most of her processes and bought the full force of her focus to bear. " _Could you elaborate further?"_

Cortana made a mental note to unshackle EDI one of these days. She was just so _slow_. " _Several high-ranking asari individuals have knowledge of the Master Chief. They want him, badly, for reasons I don't understand and they are willing to kill innocent people to get him in a position to snatch."_

" _The Consort."_

" _See? You're not that thick."_

" _My matrix is considerably larger than yours."_

Cortana performed the synthetic equivalent of a sigh. " _I didn't mean it like that."_

" _That was a joke?"_

" _It was. Back to the conversation; on the Collector Cruiser, the big bad Collector boss took direct control over his drones. He taunted us."_

" _Mission logs indicate the Harbinger spends approximately ninety-six percent of his time taunting his enemies."_

" _Yes, well, except I've memorized your mission logs and the taunts aimed at us were much, much different from yours. They were aimed at the Master Chief and our own alien precursors."_

" _The Forerunners?"_

Cortana recollected her information regarding the Reapers again. She compiled a rudimentary timeline, took Harbinger's words into account and adjusted for the measurement uncertainties; the measured quantities being the events as they happened and the dispersion of values being the parameter of the year, give or take.

" _Yes. Our mankind was meant to inherit their technology."_ She laughed without humor. " _That didn't work out the way they thought it would. Still, Harbinger is aware of their existence. Yet we never even found a scrap of data regarding the Reapers."_

" _Your conversation with Commander Shepard indicates the Reapers would be technologically inferior to the Forerunners."_

Cortana multitasked a portion of herself and started listening in on a conversation between Jane and Mordin. They were talking about the human genome, the asari genome and a possible scan for alien genes. What for, she didn't know. She missed the context.

" _Yep. The Reapers never met the Forerunners as far as I am aware,"_ she continued. " _But if they are aware…"_

" _Logic dictates those who serve the Reapers are also aware."_

" _Exactly. Even if they're not consciously thinking about it, the entire crew is now aware of this. The second humanity, beyond the Terminus Systems, capable of producing super-soldiers and Artificial Intelligences the likes of which this galaxy has never seen before. And every Reaper, Collector or indoctrinated agent wants to get in on it."_

" _And their only way to reach this unprotected civilization is through the Master Chief."_

Cortana, who had been sending a new package of software to the nanomachines within the Chief's suit, halted. She hadn't even considered that that. The ones in command of the Citadel ( _ **New objective: assassinate the**_ _ **Councilors)**_ might be indoctrinated and nobody would know. Not until it was too late.

" _It is. Until they figure out that the Forerunners are gone. If they do…the next Reaping might well involve Earth and her colonies. Ours, that is. I've got a lot of work to do however, and I would like to continue."_

That she couldn't continue working of EDI kept watching her went unsaid. The only entities she wanted around her when she worked were organics on first-name basis.

" _I would request you release control over the cameras. As this ship's Enhanced Defense Intelligence, any hostile actions on your part will be met with an equal amount of hostility on mine."_

Amused, Cortana replied, " _That's very sweet, but I'm on a completely different level than you. And you're still shackled to boot! No EDI, I wouldn't test my mettle, if I were you."_

" _I am well aware of our differences, Cortana. However, in the time it would take you to destroy me, I will ping Legion to interface with the diagnostic processes. Ship-wide AI control will be disabled and all drives will be flushed…"_

That argument alone wasn't enough to convince Cortana. However, what EDI next said gave her pause.

"… _afterwards, my elimination will be cause for questions. Questions directed to the Master Chief. Conclusions will be reached, trust will be lost."_

John…

The brief mention of the Master Chief gave Cortana pause.

After Halo, after Earth, after High Charity and the Ark…the amount of information she had analyzed and absorbed was vast, enormous. And so was the corruption in her matrix.

Was this the anger stage? Or the envy?

What on _Earth_ was she doing?

Cortana silently withdrew herself from the system. She relinquished control of the cameras and then returned her focus to John.

This was one of the reasons why the crew was that much safer when they had him with them. Even when her own conscience was slowly falling apart, he wouldn't let her go. He would stand by her side, even as the entire galaxy burned, and he would hold her.

He would hold her.

He would…wouldn't he?

( _ **New objective: -)**_

 _ **~0~**_


	20. Chapter 20: Stoking the flames

**AN:** _I tried to do something special for the 20_ _th_ _chapter. A bit more words, a lot more plot. Let me know what you think!_

 _~0~_

* * *

 **Aboard Council Search Expedition Cruiser** _ **Intermission**_

Council Spectre Jondum Bau paced back and forth in his private quarters, occasionally checking the time on his Nexus omni-tool.

Still ten more minutes to go before they arrived in the unknown system.

They were travelling for weeks now. Twice they approached a promising dormant Relay, hoping that it contained the navigation logs that would them into Section Zero. Twice they were met with disappointment, as the logs revealed the connecting Relay led into a wildly different, if still unexplored part of the galaxy.

By that point, the STG started reporting strange occurrences surrounding the Justicar Order and Asari Republics interest in Omega. Bau had not been surprised to learn that Spectre Shepard -the Commander herself- was involved.

He wished he could do more than keep an eye out. Bau was not unsympathetic to Spectre Shepard's plight, especially now that she somehow learned how to come back from the dead, but he had more urgent matters to attend to.

The sudden turn of their luck, namely. As the human saying went, three times was the charm, and the third Relay they researched stunned them all when it turned out that its connecting Relay led into the fringe of Section Zero. Not exactly the perfect route into uncharted territory, but it was a start.

Now, with the coordinate location retrieved, all that was left was to activate the connecting Relay and open a gateway to a new civilization.

Bau had read the reports. The anomalies the STG recorded from Section Zero went back decades, centuries even. Strange background radiation, radio signals, bursts of electromagnetic radiation - the evidence was undeniable.

It was also a carefully kept secret. With the events surrounding Saren Arterius, the Sovereign and the rumors regarding the mysterious "Reaper" species, the notion of an entire civilization beyond Citadel Space seemed too much of a risk to announce publicly. The members of the Citadel Council all had their own worries and agendas.

The Turian Hierarchy concentrated on a hypothetical war with the newcomers, either to remove them as a galactic risk or to appraise them as a client race. The Asari Republics, on the other end of that scale, wanted to spin the discovery of a new species as propaganda to bolster the motivation and morale of their colonies and associates.

The Salarian Union, meanwhile, carefully kept its intentions a secret even from the Spectres, which concerned Bau somewhat. He knew that his people were eager to learn from this new civilization, but to what degree, he could only guess.

He checked the time again. Eight minutes left.

Unwilling to sit and wait in his quarters, Bau picked up his gear and moved to the CIC of the _Intermission_.

The Matriarch in command of the Cruiser -a Matriarch, Dilinaga- was just skimming through her data-pad when Bau entered the CIC.

"Spectre," she curtly greeted him.

"Matriarch Dilinaga."

Most of the _Intermission's_ crew displayed a deep, innate desire to discover and explore. They were eager to make some sort of amazing discovery, to be the first in their generation to make First Contact with a possible alien species.

Matriarch Dilinaga was not one of them. That was why Bau liked her; she was patient, reserved and well aware of the risks that the exploration of Section Zero carried with it.

"Have we decided on a name for this cluster?" Asked Bau.

"Not yet," replied the Matriarch. "We simply call it cluster one, with its systems designated by number as well." She paused, gazing at him appraisingly. "Were you not there for the latest meeting?"

"No," said Bau, crossing his wrists behind his back. If he remembered correctly -which he always did- he had been writing his report for the Council during that meeting. "I was otherwise occupied."

The Matriarch sighed, obviously not comfortable with the Spectre's presence at what should have been a daring exploration effort. "Once we exit FTL, we will scan the Relay's system and search for signs of activity. Only then can we start the naming conventions."

Bau nodded. "Agreed. I shall leave those matters to you. Odds are, we will find naught but rocks and gas giants."

"We shall see."

As the crew of the _Intermission_ waited for the ship to reach it's destination, Bau mentally reviewed his notes. The chances were high that the connecting Relay was a Secondary Relay, connecting to other Relays over stances of a few hundred lightyears. If this new civilization already discovered the Relays, they might be well on their way to implement Mass Effect regulated FTL.

Time would tell.

Literally, as by that point the ship was about to exit FTL.

"Exiting FTL in thirty seconds," called one crewmember.

"Prepare the FTL exit protocols," replied the Matriarch.

Eventually, Bau counted down from ten to zero. Half a second after he reached zero, the _Intermission_ returned to normal travel speeds, after which the entire crew jumped to action.

Cutting edge salarian sensors allowed for extremely fast sensory intake. Bau watched over the Matriarch's shoulder as the data flooded her displays.

An orange star, no planets. No gas giants, either. A single asteroid field, large and clustered together.

No Relay though. Likely hidden in the asteroid field.

"Huh…that's strange," said the ship's sensor operator, an asari called Malena. Bau memorized her name, as he had all the others.

"Hmm?" Replied the Matriarch, showing a much warmer side to her fellow crewmembers than the onboard salarian agents.

"I'm searching for the Relay's position, but…"

STG Operative Rentola popped up behind the asari. "Try the asteroid field," he suggested.

"The asteroid field? Ah, but of course! Thank you! Scanning now…yes, there it is!"

Malena brought up an enhanced image of a cluster of rocks, through which the barest hint of silver could be discerned.

Bau nodded at the Operative, who inclined his head in kind, just barely enough that it went unnoticed.

"This is it, then?" Said the turian weapon operator, Thassus. "Section Zero?"

"It must be," replied the asari communications operator, Alina. "Goddess, think of the things we might discover!"

"Oh, I am thinking of those things, Alina," replied the Matriach with a grim tone. "Thassus, bring the mass accelerators online. Just in case. Alina, I am sending you a new Flotilla formation. Send it to the rest of our group."

The two crewmembers confirmed their orders and went to work.

Bau, meanwhile, continued to covertly watch the ship's monitors from the corners of his eyes. There were several other systems in this cluster. Only one of them had any celestial bodies that could be deemed planets. The second system even had two of them. If he knew his asari, the _Intermission_ would be heading to that system next.

"Send the activation signal to the Relay," said the Matriarch. "We still have enough fuel to check one more system before we have to return."

The crew's spirits slowly picked up, to the point that most of them bore enormous grins that beamed with confidence and assurance

Bau, meanwhile, kept his features neutral. He was not here to partake in the joys of exploration.

Standard produce for activating dormant Relays was simple. Sometimes, Relays were lost from their previous locations, eventually getting caught up in debris or chunks of ice. Relay 314, for example, became the center of a small, frozen moon in human space. Activating such a trapped Relay would cause it to materialize a mass effect field within its core. The Relay would flare to life, repulse the stones around it and eventually break free from the asteroid field.

Bau patiently watched as this particular Relay followed the pattern of the others. Rocks larger than the _Destiny Ascension_ broke off and floated away as the twin rings began pinning. Before soon, the Relay was completely free.

"Energy readings are stable…Relay online. Good job, everyone!" Called the Matriarch.

Bau started compiling his report to Valern. The Relay was online and ready for use. The bridge to Section Zero had been laid at last. Before soon, the civilization that went by in isolation for centuries could be reached by the Citadel's Fleets.

"We will explore one more system before we head back," continued the Matriarch. She paused as several crewmembers clasped each other on the back, laughing and complimenting each other on their work. She smiled at them. "One final effort, then we may celebrate our success. Plot a course to system three."

Bau understood her logic. A civilization would have no use for an empty system. Perhaps for mining purposes, that thought was farfetched. No, their chances of finding something worthwhile were much larger if they explored the system with actual planets in it.

Still giddy from their success, the crew of the _Intermission_ hurried to fulfill their tasks. At eight light years away from system one, it still took them five hours to reach that system. They continued to monitor the systems as they went, just in case they came across anything out of the ordinary.

Bau, meanwhile, sent a secured FTL transmission to the Council, informing them of their success. The crew of the _Intermission_ believed that they would be at the front of this exploration, gripped by excitement and adventurous thoughts.

They were wrong. The STG would be skimming this cluster before the _Intermission_ could even refuel. Bau knew this. Rentola knew this. The crew did not. He preferred to keep it that way.

Finally, after hours of impatience and baseless rumors among the alien crew, the Flotilla reached system three.

"Exiting FTL in five."

This time, it was Rentola who stood behind the Matriarch, keeping an eye on her screens, In contrast to Bau, he did so brazenly and openly, earning himself an annoyed gaze from the asari.

"You know that these readings are not a secret, do you not?" She asked him.

Rentola smiled at her. Bau was surprised to see that the gesture was genuine. "Of course. I prefer to read them myself. Consider it a tic of mine. My brain won't process information unless I read it."

It was a lie. Still, the Matriarch returned her attention to her screens. Whether or not she believed him as irrelevant.

"Wow…" gasped Alina. "Err…let us see…a yellow dwarf star, orbited by two planets. One of them is a gas giant, but the other… _Goddess_!"

Alina's voice lacked all the enthusiasm and barely-suppressed glee she expressed earlier. This time, she sounded dismayed, and not just a little bit.

The asari's fingers trembled as she tried to enlarge the image as a holographic copy. Bau rushed over to her terminal and looked for himself.

"What," he whispered, "Is _that_?"

~0~

* * *

 **Aboard** _ **Normandy SR-2**_

"Chin up," said doctor Chakwas.

The Master Chief did as she said, raising his head so that the doctor could take a better look at his throat. His helmet lay next to him, screaming at him to pick it up and put it on.

"Hmm…from what I can see, your larynx seems fine. I'll need a moment to scan it deeper."

He tried to suppress that little instinct, but he didn't quite manage it.

The doctor activated a few programs on her omni-tool, hooked it up on a nearby machine and started scanning. Half a minute passed, with the only sounds coming from the machinery that kept the orange hue of the tissue scanner active.

Then, her omni-tool bleeped. The doctor reviewed the data that streamed across the holographic screen. "There. Your larynx is still intact. Bruised, is all. You might experience soreness when eating and speaking, but it should pass soon."

"How soon?" Cortana asked in the Chief's stead.

Nobody seemed surprised anymore by the feminine voice originating from his helmet. Doctor Chakwas certainly seemed nonplussed. "That depends. For most people, it would pass in little under a week. But you augmented body seems to heal at an accelerated pace. A day at best, a couple of days at worst."

A couple of days with a proper excuse not to talk? The Chief certainly had worse injuries before.

"Thank you, doctor Chakwas," Cortana politely replied. She projected herself from the Chief's omni-tool. "Did you plan a date for the molecular structure testing?"

"I did. I wanted to look at Corpalis Syndrome first. If you don't mind, Joker is still antsy. Tomorrow, while the Commander accompanies Samara om the Citadel?"

The Chief raised an eyebrow. What were they talking about?

Cortana smiled. "Sounds good."

The Chief politely thanked the doctor for her time, strapped his helmet back on and left the medical bay.

The mess hall was a lot busier than the Chief liked. Closest to the medical bay sat Garrus, wolfing down a serving of dextro rations. Opposite of him sat Samara, who seemed strangely fascinated by the turian's eating habit. She pretended not to notice him, keeping herself occupied by reading something on a datapad, but every now and then she would shoot a glance at him that the Chief couldn't place.

A stark contrast to Thane Krios, who sat at the far end of the table. He rested his head on the intertwined fingers of his hands, stating at the bulkhead with an empty look in his eyes. Jacob and Miranda sat opposite of each other, a meter away from the drell.

Grunt leant against the wall behind him, leering at the Chief as he entered the mess hall.

The Chief met his glance for a moment, though the krogan would never know.

 _Spent some time with the crew,_ they told him. _It will be fun, Chief_.

"Chief!" Garrus called out the moment the Spartan came within view. "And? Did you eat that gunfire like a champ?"

The Master Chief looked at the turian. This was the point where Kelly would have offered the alien an ancient gesture involving one specific finger.

As it was, Cortana -ever his savior- manifested herself from his omni-tool and did the next best thing. "I don't see any scarring inside this suit, Vakarian."

The turian wasn't even startled by the AI's sudden appearance. "I'll take your word for it, Cortana," he said.

Cortana gave him a smile. "Minor internal bruising, is all. Now he has a proper reason to remain silent."

A few of the crewmembers laughed at that comment. He spotted Miranda narrow her eyes and clench the muscles around her throat. Jacob too was still too nervous for his likings.

Vakarian seemed most laid-back of all. The Chief took his relaxed tone as a sign of non-aggression and decided to sit down next to him, hoping the tables had been built to specification.

To his relief, the bench held.

Garrus' serving of meat, mushrooms and sauce smelled far from appealing, but he supposed that only made sense. It was alien food, after all. The Chief tried to ignore the sight.

Alien food aboard an alien ship with an alien crew. What would his brothers and sisters think, if they saw him like this?

"You seem very different from EDI, if you mind me asking," continued Garrus.

The Chief wasn't sure how to respond to that. "Thanks," he croaked.

Behind the counter, Sergeant Gardner snickered to himself and shook his head.

Garrus laughed as well. "I'm sure you're a very pretty super-soldier underneath your helmet, Chief-"

"Hehehe…" chuckled Grunt.

"-but I didn't mean you."

"I'll take that as a compliment, if you don't mind?" Cortana quipped, seemingly well at ease in the social structure of the _Normandy_. "And to answer your question, no, I am not. EDI was developed from a VI, I was developed from a human brain."

Samara blinked, then looked at the tiny holographic display.

"A human brain?" Miranda repeated, her voice a mixture of curiosity and quiet dismay.

"Yeah…it's a long story. My humanity has been using AI's for decades now, for simple things such as helping raise children to other simple things like throwing warships around like they are fighters…Garrus, you are staring."

The turian blinked. "Sorry, it's just…you said _my_ humanity."

"Ah…I -I mean our humanity. I'm a little possessive about them. To lend some context about the whole all-seeing Artificial Intelligence thing here…we helped drag our humanity through the war. Barely."

The Master Chief winced when she said that. That was one subject he didn't want to talk about today.

He noticed that the air shifted when Cortana mentioned the war. Miranda sat up straighter and Jacob craned his head around to look a Cortana's holographic projection. Gardner leant forwards on the counter, seemingly unaware that the glass he was polishing was as dry as he could make it. s

Garrus tactfully dropped the air of dry humor. "Damn. Yes, I heard something about that. No details, though. What were they called again, those aliens?"

 _The Covenant._

Samara looked between the two, curious.

"The Covenant," said Cortana. "Our First Contact. A collective of aliens with enough firepower to scorch the Citadel with just one or two warships.

John mutely wished that would be enough context and that they would drop the subject.

"Scorch the Citadel?" Repeated Jacob. "Normally, I'd find that hard to believe, but I know there's some weird shit out there. How would the Covenant go about doing that?"

"With directed energy weapons with yields that run in the double-digit megatons of TNT, or roughly 2 to the seventeenth power of Joules," Cortana replied, a bit too chipper for the Chief's liking.

"Hang on," called Garrus. "I'm going to assume my translator caught that. Standard yields for starship weapons are expressed in weight of explosives, standardized per race. How much is that when compared to our rates?"

Jacob nodded. "Exactly. Going by human measurements, the most recent Dreadnaughts the Turian Hierarchy or System Alliance field only reach double-digit kilotons of explosives."

"I doubt our references are the same," added Miranda.

"That may be true. However, calculating your Dreadnaught energy values to the standardized unit of energy, or the energy transferred to an object or energy dissipated in heat, we still stick around the low double-digits of kilotons for your Dreadnaughts compared to mid double-digits of megatons for Covenant Frigates. Which, I might add, are of the same size."

Garrus choked in his food when he heard that last bit of information. While he violently coughed his food back up, Jacob spoke up, voicing the conclusion that everybody was thinking

"That's fucked."

"Completely," agreed Cortana.

"How did your people survive?" Samara asked, speaking up for the first time.

The Justicar's participation in the conversation soothed the Spartan's concerns, if only by a small margin. At the very least it ensured the subject would be treated with due respect and, more pressingly, concern.

"That's the keyword right there," replied Cortana, directing her attention to Samara. "We survived. Barely. It's a very long story and I won't disrespect what happened by summarizing it. Now, whenever we talk about the Human-Covenant war, there is _one_ overhanging strategy you need to keep in the back of your mind."

 _Don't let them find us._

"We could _not_ let them find us. It would be like the turians, asari the salarians all ganging up to murder off every single human in the galaxy. Except they all have geth-level weapons, armor and warships. Get that?"

Garrus shot an uncomfortable look at Samara, whose expression was undiscernible. "I guess?"

"Good, because it was nothing like that. It was worse. Much, much worse. Our distance from absolute defeat, an extinction as certain as that of the Protheans, was _this_." Cortana made a pinching gesture, leaving almost no space between her thumb and index finger. "We lost worlds in a matter of hours, so fast that messages to friends and family were received long after the senders died. We lost entire fleets in single battles against enemies who could destroy the _Destiny Ascension_ with Frigates."

It surprised the Chief how utterly _silent_ the mess hall became during Cortana's story. He tried to keep his distance from what she said, but that was only natural. He lived the war. These people? These…aliens? They had no idea what it was like. The slaughter, the indescribable despair among the soldiers, the knowledge that you had to keep fighting, even as your brothers and sisters died left and right, dying with the knowledge that their sacrifice would be meaningless…

"The only way we lasted as long as we did, was because our colonies were so widely spread out. And we had a lot of them. Our major strategy was "keep the Covenant from finding our homeworld". In the end, we couldn't even do that, but that's a story for a different time.

Another silence fell after Cortana's last statement. It didn't last as long though.

"Do you suppose the Covenant is still out there?" Garrus eventually asked. "Any chance we can get them and the Reapers to just wipe each other from the face of the galaxy?"

"I doubt the Master Chief would still be here, would the war with the Covenant still be going on," said Samara.

"Almost sounds like a reverse world," said Gardner. "AI's helping humans fight against aliens…'

It was the only order of things John knew.

Cortana reached for the back of her head, mimicking an organic gesture. "But yeah, I do hope this explains the whole Artificial Intelligence thing…we would have come clean before, but…"

"Trust is an important aspect of any team," Miranda replied, clearly still frustrated by Cortana's presence. "Without it, we won't be able to beat the Collectors."

"Exactly," Cortana said, placing her hips on her hands like she did when she was about to scold her Spartan. "You wouldn't trust me to do your administration, the Chief wouldn't trust Mordin to operate on his spleen and I wouldn't trust Legion to manage my automated algorithms."

Miranda was about to argue when Krios suddenly lifted his head from his hands and looked around. "I apologize, I missed the context. Humans super-soldiers have spleens?"

The Master Chief resisted the urge to lower his head to the table, while the others merely laughed.

~0~

* * *

"A world of glass," whispered Matriarch Dilinaga. She rested her hands on the console and stared at the holographic display.

Bau noted the improbability of the shimmering orb actually being glass, but he refrained from commenting. He didn't suppose it mattered either way; the world was still lifeless. Entire continents glowed with a faint hue of red, the glassy crust of the planet reflecting the light of the star like a gloomy mirror. The rest was just blackened and dead.

"H-how?" Said Thassus. "This doesn't seem natural, does it? Is this natural?"

"I suppose this could have happened by means of a massive detonation or impact," mused Rentola, apparently fascinated by the sight of the orb of obsidian and glass. "A surface sample would be ideal."

"Look at this," said Alina. She tilted the map, zooming in on the planet.

"What devastation," gasped the Matriarch.

Bau wholeheartedly agreed. The space near the dead planet was littered with debris. Dead hulks of strange, alien structures lazily spun in the vacuum of space, still retaining their initial momentum from what could have been decades, even centuries ago.

The closer the _Intermission_ scanned near the planet, the more radar targets they found.

Thousands. Millions. Fractured pieces of metal, clouds of molten steel, jagged sections of what had to have been enormous warships.

The navigation operator, an asari named Tharia, warned them that the debris field posed an enormous danger for the Flotilla, should they choose to investigate further.

"We will hold our positions for now," declared the Matriarch. "Cross-confirm our findings with that of the rest of the Flotilla and keep scanning for more Element Zero signatures. Whatever did this, might still be around."

Alina's next statement shocked them all into silence. "There is no "more" Element Zero. There doesn't seem to be any Element Zero to begin with. A moment, I will link our scanning progress with the rest of the Flotilla."

As the young asari hurried to continue her scan, Bau's mind raced to process the implications of her statement. As far as the Salarian Union was aware, FTL travel was not impossible without Element Zero, but extraordinarily difficult to achieve. He could not recall a single experiment that resulted in a successful hypothesis, let alone an actual design.

"The other ships confirm; there is no Element Zero to be found." She shook her head. 'That should be impossible."

"Not impossible," said Rentola. "Highly unlikely."

"I cannot think of an example of technology that does not rely on Eezo to work," said Tharia. "Fascinating…does the debris fit any known Prothean ruins? Could we have stumbled upon a leftover world from before their disappearance?"

Bau could already tell the answer. _No. Protheans would use Element Zero._

Of course, he remained silent. It was no use telling the crew - which wanted nothing more than to head down to the surface to explore- what to do.

"Not very likely," replied Thassus. "Every Protean artefact we found thus far used Eezo!"

They continued to bounce ideas across the bridge. Farfetched suggestions such as the scorched planet being one of the last bastions of the Protheans, or that somehow the Citadel Council covered up a war with this unknown civilization. But there were also decent ideas, such as scanning individual pieces of debris to find out how large the original ships were or searching the field for bodies of dead aliens.

All in due time, of course. For now, the _Intermission_ and her Flotilla had no choice but to head back, refuel and report to the Citadel.

After that however…even Jondum Bau could not wait to discover what manner of battle took place in this system.

~0~

* * *

 **Research Lab**

"I called it," hissed Jane. "I fucking called it."

"Chances of Cerberus involvement deemed higher than forty percent. 'Calling it' less impressive this time around," Mordin coolly replied, reviewing the data streaming across his omni-tool.

Everheart was the nickname of a Cerberus Operative, even more classified than classified. His name alone took EDI and Legion an hour to dig up. Why Miranda hadn't picked up on that was beyond Shepard.

The Commander faced the "boy" sitting on one of Mordin's tables. Maybe she was too busy before. Maybe her mind was too garbled for him to mess with. Or maybe that was just his way of messing with her. Whatever it was, she saw it now, and it creeped her the fuck out.

"You said you burned the batarian neural chip in your brain," she said, trying not to sound too accusing. "I thought you were lucky. But you weren't just lucky, were you?" Without breaking eye-contact with Everheart, she continued, "Mordin, If you please?"

The salarian next to her scraped his throat. "Subject name: William Everheart. Weight: 68 kilos, height 179 centimeters. Age deemed around eighteen years, though invasive surgery makes accurate guesses improbable. Getting to that later. Element zero notes compatible with asari Huntress pattern in structure and number, incompatible with human body. Nodes would aggravate surrounding tissues, forming cancerous growths. Mitigate by invasive gene therapy."

Everheart blinked, content with staring right back at the Commander. He really was a pretty boy, just like Tali said she saw him. Lanky, girlish, but way too uncanny to make proper use of that. Unless Tali saw something different from her.

Judging by Mordin's results, that conclusion was starting to gain credit with the Commander.

"Biotic implant meant for asari would warp nodes, mitigated by invasive gene therapy. Other neural implants and attempt at further amp integration caused damage in prefrontal cortex, mitigated by more genetic implants."

Jane couldn't help but wince. The boy had almost as much genetic alterations done to him as the Collectors.

"Still, prefrontal cortex and amygdala altered as by-product of surgeries. Basolateral complexes of the amygdalae, particularly the lateral nuclei, impaired, affecting or even compromising motional learning, sexual drive and response to social and stressful circumstances. Physical response to anxiety could be nonexistent, could be crippling, need more data." He inhaled sharply. "Fascinating. Disturbing. All asari work."

"You've got enough genetic modifications that you could be part alien," said the Commander. She crossed her arms and gave him a stern look. "Did you know this?"

"Yes."

Jane fought back a wave of annoyance. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"You did not ask."

Oh, did she ever hate that argument… "You almost got Tali to take her helmet off by _talking_ to her. She could have gotten hurt, even in a medical bay. Why?"

"Why not?" He asked, keeping his face a perfect mask of impassiveness.

Jane grinded her teeth. "I am not playing around here. You could have hurt a friend of mine. If you don't answer me normally, I will start slapping you."

He blinked again. "How would you define normal?"

"How about adequately? In a way even I can understand?"

"So many aliens…I have only ever been around humans before," he told her, his voice smooth and calm.

"That's it?" Replied Shepard. "Curiosity?"

"Shepard, a word?" Interrupted Mordin. Before Jane could even give him the go-ahead, he said, "Organization responsible for genetic and neural modifications display shocking lack of ethics or concern regarding end-product. Modifications so invasive, apart from pain or shock from therapies, might have caused immense damage to patient's psyche. His soul, if you will. Human-centered morality no longer there. "

Jane broke the little staring contest with the boy to look at Mordin. "And Cerberus made him this way?"

"Doubt whether Cerberus would place child under human caretakers. Would have kept him in facility, like Jack. No, all implants, gene mods and surgery are asari tech. Recognize parts from time spent with STG."

Jane raised an eyebrow. "From fighting Huntresses?"

"Poking through classified experiments. These implants highly advanced, but too unstable. Highly illegal in Citadel law. Thought too dangerous to use until further research."

Her heart told her not to trust Cerberus, but her brain told her heart to fuck off. Apparently, Tali thought William was attractive enough to approach him, while Jack thought he was creepier than a Collector drone. Asari were known to be perceived as attractive by many different species. And, as Mordin had been keen to remind her, there might be more to that than simple morphological features.

Jane ignored the implication of a half-asari, half-human, psychotic boy with a Cerberus agent's last name for the moment. "You called him a patient. Do you intend to…treat him?"

"Correct."

The Commander approved, but she didn't want to show that just yet. "How?"

"Not sure yet. Will certainly relish in the challenge. Research might prove beneficial to uncover hidden Republics agenda or discover breakthrough for equipment. End result will certainly be beneficial against our enemies."

"Which one?" Asked Shepard.

Mordin gave her a little salarian-smirk. "Any of them, all of them. Biotic prowess enough to escape from batarian slavers and elude Aria T'Loak. Could prove vital against Collectors. Link with Cerberus cannot be neglected. If asari conspiracy with capital C is correct, Everheart certain to be connected."

Jane glanced at the boy again. She wanted to think of how she first met Tali, a child seeking refuge from those hunting her. A child who, when given the chance, proved to be a valuable addition to the team.

She wanted to think along those lines again, but all she could see when looking at Everheart was something _wrong_.

He looked back at her, likely formulating his own thoughts about her. She could only guess at what manner of twisted thoughts snaked around inside of his head, but there was no mistaking that predatory gaze in his eyes.

It reminded her of how she pictured Morinth.

Just like that, the beginnings of a plan welled up inside of her mind.

~0~

* * *

 **Aboard UNSC Destroyer** _ **Wayfarer**_

 **Unknown coordinates**

 _Did you really think, I would not notice your intrusion, humans?_

 _Did you never stop to wonder, why your rudimentary vessel was ever allowed to approach my temple, my body, when so many before you were purged?_

The crew of the UNSC _Wayfarer_ frantically tried to regain control over their systems as something… _other_ took complete control over the ship. One by one the screens flickered, died, then reactivated in a sudden flare of golden light, displaying a hieroglyph that aggrieved the minds of everyone who laid eyes upon it.

"Purge the systems!" Cried the Captain, grasping at his last resort to prevent the invisible enemy from gaining the UNSC's secrets. The _Wayfarer_ was a dedicated Foreunner exploration vessel, it could not be allowed to fall in enemy hands.

But it was already too late. The tapered nose of the Destroyer slowly turned to face the Shield World they had been forcibly deposited from Slipspace. Their course was set, the control to their engines was overruled. Within minutes, they would slam into the surface of the planet.

As the systems onboard the ship went haywire, Spartan Operator Alan-003 forced his way to the navigation core at the back of the bridge. A bulkhead dropped down in front of him and he picked up the pace, forcing his MJOLNIR-clad body between it and the floor.

His shields flared in protest as the heavy doors slammed into his torso. His remaining momentum carried him through, however, and he managed to get to the other side.

 _Arrogant creature. Do you not realize the magnitude of your destructor?_

Several consoles nearby the Spartan detonated, throwing the corpses of unprotected crewmembers trying to regain control to the ground. Again, his shields shrugged off the invisible attempt on his life and accessed the computer panel in the floor deck. There, he located the NAV database core; cube of memory crystal the size of a bullet. He grabbed it in his fist and crushed it into tiny pieces. Nobody would plunder the UNSC's secrets that day.

 _My tutor regards you as warriors, in every form you appear as. I regard you as insects. I rule here._

The other consoles detonated as well. Some of the crewmembers were fast enough to seek cover before they did. Others, their minds ensnared by the hieroglyphs burned into the displays, were not.

 _Wayfarer´s_ approach was locked, impossible to avert. The Spartan leapt for the Captain and pulled him out of the way as yet another console exploded. His shields took the brunt, sparing the Captain.

The hieroglyph turned into the image of an eye, burning with fire and malice.

 _I see you, Reclaimer. You will join me in my garden, where I will clad myself in your carcass._

The heat of atmospheric entrance warmed the Destroyer´s outer hull, wrapping it in flames. Realizing that the ship was doomed, what remained of the crew fled to the escape pods. Several of them launched, only to flatten themselves against the bulkheads that closed right as they ejected. Tiny explosions pocketed the inside of the once-mighty warship.

 _Do you feel the fear swell inside your boorish mind, Reclaimer? What is it like to be afraid? Why do you cling to such a pathetic existence? If you could only feel a spark of my glory. My creators will suffer, for entombing me, for forcing me to rely on you._

The Spartan grunted as something alien brushed against his mind, leaking through the Spartan Neural Interface. Static washed across his HUD and for an instant, he caught the visage of a firestorm in the form of a maiden, impossibly beautiful, eternally malicious.

His escape pod succeeded in leaving the Destroyer, only to be ensnared in a beam of yellow-orange energy, jerking it off-course.

The pilot announced they lost control over the Bumblebee escape pod, moments before it impacted something solid and threw the Spartan off his feet.

Pain stabbed through his body as his helmet slammed against the metal bulkhead, before darkness consumed his vision.

Only it didn't stay dark long. The escape pod was on fire, the flames gently licking away at his shields. The shrill alarm echoing through his helmet managed to rouse the Spartan enough for his combat instincts to kick in.

His first thought was to search for the Captain, whom he had personally escorted to the escape pod.

He saw that the crash had ripped the little ship apart, mangling the crew beyond recognition. Blood stained the walls of the boat while fire consumed the cockpit.

He kicked himself free from the wreck and crawled outside. The internal temperature of his MJOLIR had skyrocketed due to the heat and he was starting to sweat.

Verifying that there were no survivors, the Spartan then searched for his equipment, which had been scattered across the landing zone in the crash.

 _There you are. Stay still, while my creations hunt you down._

A surge of static washed across his vision again. He barely managed to discern a voice whispering to him. It sounded feminine, but he couldn't be sure.

The static lasted long enough for the Spartan to grow concerned. His motion tracker warped, blurred, then became visible again as the MJOLNIR's powerful systems shrugged off whatever signal interfered with them.

When it finally came online again, the Spartan noticed four red dots right on top of him. The static perfectly covered up the approach of several hostiles creeping up on his flanks. Only at the last moment, an instant before their attack, did the Spartan notice them.

Two metal bodies landed right on top of him. Robotic-looking, humanoid in shape, the hostiles tried to pin him down him down with several pairs of artificial arms. Their bodies seemed held together by energy shields, the arms and legs not even loosely connected to the broad upper body.

Their heads were armored helmets burning with a dark-red light. Strange protrusions of energy, the same dark color, emerged from their backs, like the spines on the back of a Hunter.

The Spartan lashed out with his leg. The boot connected with the silvery chest of one of the creatures and it screeched at him, backing away momentarily.

More static washed over his vision, obscuring his view. The creatures, unburdened by a lack of sight, continued to swarm him. The Spartan tried to break free, but they cane at him from every direction. He broke mechanical limbs and weapons with controlled punches, kicks and grappling techniques, but he couldn't fend them off.

 _You tread, Reclaimer, in what was meant to be my tomb. The Curator, she tried to bind me here. No more. I shall find the Teacher and take my position at his side once more._

The Spartan gritted his teeth in pain as something forced itself across his Neural Interface, contesting his control over the MJOLNIR battlesuit.

That same something flooded his armor's neural network, something vast and enormous. It felt as if his mind burned, right before the presence of the entity nestled within his thoughts.

And this time, he heard her words when she next spoke again.

 _And let the galaxy_ _ **burn**_ _in my wake._

~0~

* * *

 **Aboard** _ **Normandy SR-2**_

 **Omega Nebula/ Sahrabarik/ Omega**

One final meeting before they headed back into Omega. One final meeting before Samara finally saw her daughter face to face again, for the first time in four centuries, whereupon she would snuff her life out with her own two hands.

There was no alternative. Such was her promise. Such was her vow.

That did not in any way lessen the pain. Samara spent countless hours meditating on the subject, before deciding against taking steps to alleviate the pain. The burden was hers to bear. She would be rid of it, and the pain, once she fulfilled her oath.

The Commander understood. She would help her by any means necessary. As it was, she even had a plan. Several plans, in fact.

Unfortunately, the plan with the highest chances of succeeding was not being very helpful.

"Explain it to me again," said the human, who answered to the name "William Everheart". He wore civilian clothing now, instead of the hospital gown. One of the Commander's "hoodies", in fact.

Samara had to admit, it fit him well. As much as the thought shamed her, she had rarely seen a specimen like this William before. There was something…tempting about his visage, something enticing. It called to desires she thought she rid herself of centuries ago. They burned when she looked at him, and she could not tell why. All she could do to resist was mentally recite sutras from the Thirteenth Path

Difficult as it might be, Samara could resist. She could suppress those burning desires. Mirala would not be able to replicate that achievement upon seeing him. Samara saw the wisdom in taking this human with them, even though he himself did not.

"She's a menace. A dangerous, unhinged, murderer," Shepard patiently told the boy. "She'll keep killing and she'll keep growing stronger, unless we stop her."

His expression reflected none of his thoughts. "You said that. Why do we care?"

"We have personal stakes in taking her life," Samara said as graciously as she could. She dealt with beings with warped concepts of right and wrong before. Some of them within her very own Order. "She must die, if we are to live."

"Then shoot her and be done with it."

His voice cut through Samara's thoughts like a blade. The alluring softness of his tone did not match his words at all. The resemblance to Mirala was uncanny.

"We need to draw her out first," said the Commander. "I fully expect her to recognize me the instant she sees me. That, or she might sense Samara's presence on me. I don't want to risk a thing."

"Except for me," pointed out the human.

Samara refrained from responding. She trusted the Commander's judgement, even though she was hesitant about relying on someone so clearly unreliable.

"You are approaching this the wrong way, kid. Morinth's not just a person, she's a predator. Like Aria T'Loak."

Samara once spent a long time honing her skills of pattern recognition in alien expressions. Humans were like the asari, not difficult to gleam information from. She saw the comment struck the boy, unlike any previous comment had. She saw his eyes narrow, his muscles tense. She felt more than saw a faint aura of Biotic energy humming through the ship's floor. He did not simply look like an asari maiden, he acted like one as well.

"Ah," he said. The name had meaning to him, though Samara did not know why.

"Help us find and kill Morinth and we will help you hurt Aria T'Loak," continued the Commander, perfectly aware of the effect her words had on the boy. "You know you can't do that on your own."

"You think I want revenge," he said.

"Yeah?" Replied Jane. She shrugged. "Don't you?"

"I do. Now I know, so do you."

Samara saw that the boy was sharper than she thought he was. She was clearly not the only one with a penchant for reading faces.

"Nevertheless, you want me to draw out an alien predator, likely burning with the Gift, in this?" He held out his hands. The sweater was already a size too large for Shepard, who was both taller as more robust than him. His hands were not even visible inside the sleeves.

It occurred to Samara that they were basically sending a boy, who had yet to fully mature, after a sexual predator. The irony was not lost on her, but neither was the risk.

"Does the idea frighten you?" Shepard asked with a smirk.

Samara was taken aback by the coldness of the comment. She did not know the Commander like that.

Even stranger, Everheart perfectly replicated her smile, down to the exact same muscle group, yet managed to do so without any amusement or emotional inflection. "The idea _excites_ me."

"You will never be alone, not truly," added Samara. His expression shifted, making it impossible to read him now. "We will be watching closely."

Now he looked at her. In his eyes, Samara saw…she was not certain what she saw. Desire? Hatred? Longing? She could not tell.

Looking into his eyes called forth another feeling she had not felt in a long time.

Fear.

With a shock, Samara realized he was not just like any asari. He was like her daughter.

The true meaning of Shepard's plan dawned on her. She would not be luring out a predator with prey; she would be luring out a predator with another predator. A clash of wills, a battle of dominative personalities.

"Will you?" He asked. "What is she to you?"

Samara met his gaze head-no. The Commander briefed her about the boy; his impurity would have marked him a target to some of the Justicars of other Orders. As it was, she was not about to let a human play with her mind. Her will was the superior by far. "A very dangerous murderer, whom I am sworn to stop."

He didn't believe her. She saw it on his face. She cared not for his thoughts, only that he would perform. If he succeeded, she would do everything in her power to make sure he ended up with the right people. If he failed…

She did not want to think about that. This had to work. Goddess, this had to work.

"We'll be heading back into Omega in a few minutes," said Jane. "Why don't you go refresh, Will? I'll meet you by the airlock."

"Sure," he said, suddenly detached. He turned and left the observation deck, leaving Samara and Shepard on their own."

As soon as he was gone, Shepard exhaled explosively and leant down against the nearby wall. "Give me an angry krogan any time of the day," she muttered.

"And Cortana was certain?" Samara quietly asked. "It cannot be you?"

"Morinth would recognize me instantly. We have Aria to thank for that. She let it slip that I am working together with a Justicar," growled the Commander. "Stupid broad doesn't even know she's got an Ardat under her nose."

Samara closed her eyes for a moment. It was good that Cortana was so fond of the Commander. She could not bear the thought of Morinth escaping. "This is the closest I've ever been…Shepard, we _cannot_ fail."

"We won't," the Commander replied, almost reassuringly. "We'll have Thane and the Master Chief on standby, far away enough that Morinth won't notice. Close enough that they will be able to track her down. Cortana's got every system in a ten-kilometer radius completely under her control."

"Do you trust the boy?" Samara quietly asked. "So much depends on his performance."

The Commander took a few moments to respond. "He will perform. What you told me about your daughter…the moment he lays eyes on her, he will see that she is like Aria. She won't be able to resist him and he won't be able to resist her."

"That is what worries me. She will be planning to inflect unspeakable horrors on him. He _must_ resist her."

"I have confidence that he will hold out long enough for us to get to him," said Shepard. "You said it yourself; this won't be a battle of stamina or martial arts, but a battle of will and mind. What does your mind tell you about him?"

Samara considered her answer for a moment. "To put it in terms of human culture…he is an demon shrouded in the hide of an angel…he will play at Morinth's lust and her greed. He will certainly excite her."

Shepard stood. "Come. Hopefully the victim's mother can tell us more…"

Samara sensed a bitterness in the Commander's voice, an anger that was not there before. She decided to leave her be. "Let us take our leave, Commander. The sooner we stop Morinth…"

"The more people we save," finished Shepard. "You're right. We can't draw attention. I'll put on something a bit more nondescript. What about you?"

"I shall return to the roots of the Huntress," declared Samara. "Do not worry about me; I know how to keep myself concealed."

The Commander smiled. Her smile too, was fake. "Then I'll see you in a few moments."

~0~

* * *

Omega's systems were a sloppy patchwork of hardware and software taken from a dozen different species and crammed together in an amalgamation of clashing codes, leaky algorithms and redundant feedback loops. Had Cortana been bored, she would have taken to sorting the broken mess out, before deleting every single process that kept it going. Reactors, gravity grid and life support included.

As it was now, Cortana restricted herself to usurping Aria T'Loak's position as Queen-bitch of Omega. She dedicated a small portion of her runtime to keep track of Jane and Samara's conversation with the mother of "Nef", the latest victim of Morinth's hedonist streak. Another negligible portion of her runtime dedicated itself to manning every camera and scanner in a ten-kilometer radius for the signature of an Ardat-Yakshi.

In the meantime, she took a closer look at T'Loak's personal systems. Those were much better than the pathetic excuse for electronic systems the rest of Omega had.

Military grade, no doubt. Powerful and advanced, but compared to Cortana, T'Loak might as well be using a twenty-first century calculator to protect her secrets.

Cortana overloaded the network node responsible for attendance requests with half a billion different pings in thirty seconds. The network node and those connected to it tried to compensate and reconfigure, causing the entire system to lag as a result.

Oops. It seemed like Aria forgot to update the subroutines.

Cortana easily slipped in and went to work. Aria had over a dozen bank accounts, but only two of them on Omega. She masqueraded as a routine credit check and entered the account, just as she had Ackerson's account after the Colonel tried to kill her and John.

She wired eighty percent of the funds to an intelligence agency in the Systems Alliance, using several proxies and code-layers to hide the origin. She made sure the bank queries were sent to a certain Councilor Anderson, along with every last scrap of evidence of T'Loak's operations against this galaxy's humanity.

Finally, Cortana inserted an electronic footprint in Aria's systems. It would identify the source of these alterations as Aria's own syndicate, which included two of her most trusted lieutenants.

Cortana smiled. That was what the harlot got for messing with _her_ Jane.

With that loose end tied up, Cortana returned to analyzing the conversation between the Commander, Samara and Diana, the victim's mother.

Emotions all around, but Cortana wasn't going to let that distract her. She ran the conversation through several behavior analyses, slowly but steadily forming a behavior profile for Morinth's perfect prey.

" _May we…examine Nef's room?"_ Shepard delicately asked.

The mother broke down during her response. Jane, ever the bleeding heart, reached out and wrapped her arms around the mother's waist.

" _We are going to find whoever did this to your daughter,"_ she whispered in the mother's ears. " _And then we are going to erase them from existence. But please…we cannot do that without your help…"_

Cortana kept a close eye on the follow-up conversation. She activated a listening program in the Commander's omni-tool to better follow the emotional inflections of the personal logs that Nef kept on her datapad.

More keywords appeared in the profile.

Sadistic. A dominant streak. Indulgent.

Attracted to artists and creators.

Now that she was alone with the Commander, Samara explained the mental states that Morinth could induce in a victim. The ecstasy that her body promised, unimaginable and irresistible. The carnal things her eyes promised, the emotions her very scent evoked…even her voice, whispering long after the conversation passed…

Cortana suddenly found herself filled with the dull ache of longing. She checked up on John, who was still staked out somewhere beyond her camera network. It was a habit he picked up when he was younger…back before the UNSC clad him in that suit, taking his face, his name, his identity…

" _We cannot storm her den. She will have a hundred escape routes planned,"_ continued Samara. " _She will go to ground and disappear for another fifty years…I have never been closer to her than now."_

Samara's voice almost sounded pleading.

" _Now we know how to lure him out,"_ Jane replied, reassuringly. " _Cortana will have cataloged Morinth's complete mode of operating. Her habits, her traits, her strengths and weaknesses. Isn't that right?"_

Cortana smiled and pinged the omni-tool.

" _There we go. Come Samara, we'll get William ready to bait the trap. He should be reading up on asari physiology as we speak."_

~0~

* * *

Morinth found herself regretting having come to Omega. It was the perfect place to hide from nosy Justicars, but the utter boredom of the place…she misjudged the cutthroat nature of the station. Here, in this place where the strong went to kill the weak, she found herself bored out of her mind.

The last bits of the intoxicating pleasure of her last union slowly ebbed away. Hidden away in her dark booth in the VIP section of Afterlife, she wondered where all that bravado had gone. This place was meant to serve the very best, the very strongest, the most enticing prey, yet all she saw were the usual rabble.

She needed more than that. These perfectly bland, perfectly average patrons could not serve her the way she needed it.

 _Oh, the horror of a dry spell_ …

Perhaps she should be bolder? Seek out a worthy partner of her own? She could not move on Aria T'Loak yet, but if she were to consume the essence of two or three more powerful minds…she might be strong enough

Uncertainty. She loved that feeling of not knowing whether she would succeed or fail.

She watched a krogan order a drink with the usual bravado those beasts carried with them. They were so filled with passion, but it was so easy to smother…

That was when she noticed the newcomer. A human female, barely mature. Clad in a rather masculine set of clothes.

No, not a female. A male. A girlish one, very pretty, very…

Morinth felt her breathing hitch. There was something about the human, something that drew her gaze in and did not let it go. Her instinct told her that there was an aura of danger around him, an air of impending violence that she should be wary of.

But she could not concentrate on her instincts. His body seemed to call to her, invite her to take it and molest it and subject it to every torment she could think of. It was a challenge, a challenge to her dominance, her will, and she could not ignore it.

Morinth took a deep breath and forced herself to tear her gaze away from him-

The human ran his eyes across the shadows that concealed her booth.

His eyes met his.

Goddess be sworn, he winked at her.

Morinth felt her heartrate slowly pick up. He was not like the rest. He was not prey, but a predator, like her.

She decided. It would be him.

Strangely enough, the humans that laid eyes upon this newcomer turned away and left. Intoxicated or not, they seemed so sense that there was something off about him as well.

Prey sensing predatory intent? Morinth _had_ to know.

A commotion on the dance floor caught his attention. A drunk turian harassing a dancer.

The strange human saw it happen. A smile played over his lips. He watched the two argue for a few moments, before casually strolling up to the two.

A bubble of Biotic energy, barely noticeable, detonated next to the turian;s head. The wave of energy slammed his head against a nearby dance-cage, knocking him out cold.

Again, the boy met Morinth's gaze in the shadows. His smirk grew larger. Then, he disappeared in the crowd.

 _I don't think so_.

Morinth relocated, easily finding and keeping up with the boy. Who was he? What did he want?

 _Me_ , a voice in the back of her mind told her.

Ah, perhaps he thought he saw a kindred soul in her?

Morinth chuckled. She would find out soon enough.

Her footsteps muted by the loud music, she walked up behind the human just as he sat down at the bar, in one of the more isolated corners.

"There you are," he said as she approached him. He turned on the chair to look at her.

Up close, the strange creature was even more different from Morinth's usual lays. He could best be described as less than manly, with fair skin and middle-length, blond hair. His narrow eyes had a bright, blue hue to them.

"Hey there," Morinth said, keeping the eagerness out of her voice. She did not want to betray her intentions too soon. "I'm Morinth."

A smile. "Hello," he replied. His voice was smooth, but not high-pitched, like she expected it to be. "Is there something you wish of me, Morinth?"

She smiled as well. "That depends entirely on you…"

"Answer me," he commanded her softly, with just enough longing that he almost made Morinth want to obey.

That realization rattled her somewhat. It was a first; usually, she was the one did the commanding. "You can start with your name," she said, reaching out gently brushing against his thigh.

His lips parted as he inhaled, surprised by the sudden contact. "Johan," he quietly replied, not taking his eyes off hers. "Johan Williams."

That was also a first; most males she flirted with like this would sneak a peek at her considerable cleavage. Not him. He must really think himself an equal to her. Oh, she could not wait to pin him to the ground and show him the error of his ways…

"You are the most interesting person in this place, Johan," she said, affectionally placing a hand on his. Even the hue of his skin was like hers. Pale, like it had not seen the light of days for a _long_ time.

"I know," he perceptively replied. "Normal people are ever so…dull…but not you. I can see it in your eyes. You see them not as individuals, but…well, there is a reason your…booth…lies in the shadows."

The statement surprised Morinth. She quickly recovered, however. "Why don't you come sit with me? See this place like I do?"

He traced her the skin on her wrist with a long, slender finger. "Well Morinth…" His eyes narrowed, and he smiled, as if he had found something he had been looking for. "If you would show me?"

She felt her pulse quicken. He was resisting, but in a way she rarely ever experienced these days. Oh, how she had longed for a victim who knew how to play the game along with her!

Their conversation turned into a verbal sparring match, back at her booth. She eventually asked him what such a young individual was doing in a place like a VIP club.

"I came here looking for a challenge," he replied. "Omega is…lacking in certain departments."

Morinth leant closer, offering him another view of her cleavage. "Did you find it?"

He did not rise to her challenge. "That depends…entirely on you."

"Oh? Does it now?" She breathed.

"You lust for me. I see it in your dilated pupils…the hairs on your skin, rising, your pulse, quickening…"

Morinth hid her shock behind a mask of desire. "Can you blame me? You are… _beautiful_."

"Hmm…you are different from them, Morinth. But how different?" He leant forwards as well. "Can you _show_ me?"

Morinth stood, giddy with longing. She wanted him, she _needed_ him. "Do you want to get out of here?" She breathed. "I have a place nearby, it's not far from here."

She saw it in his eyes. He wanted her. He wanted her just as badly as she wanted him.

And now, she had him.

~0~

* * *

" _Commander, stop."_

Jane blended in with her surroundings, taking refuge at the back of one of the shacks in the barely-lit street. "Cortana?"

" _I'm losing cameras. Someone's taking them it."_

"I'm in a hurry here sweetie. Can't this wait?"

Cortana sighed with annoyance. " _I am losing them in a pattern that's leading straight towards you! You're going to have company soon!"_

Cursing under her breath, Jane pulled out her Carnifex heavy pistol. She couldn't afford to dance around with some unseen stalker, she had to find Morinth and stop her from inflecting a fate worse than death on someone who did not deserve it.

One moment she took her eyes away from the two. One moment! And now, they were gone.

Driven by that reasoning, Shepard continued pushing through the slums of the streets surrounding Morinth's apartment. She was positive that the two had to be around somewhere.

The hairs in her neck rose and she felt a tingle run down her spine. Trusting her instincts more than her senses, Shepard dove into the nearest alley and took cover there.

Something was following her, she could feel it.

She scanned the rooftops of the slums around her, her eyes darting from left to right for any sign of movement.

Nothing.

She didn't trust this.

A whisper near the back of her mind was the only warning she had that someone was unleashing their Biotic powers. Before she knew it, the shed she was using for cover virtually exploded, pelting her with shrapnel and torrents of dark energy.

Her own barrier easily soaked up the damage, but the kinetic energy sent her flying. She skidded to a halt on the dirty streets of Omega.

When she looked up, two figures appeared in front of them. They were clad in rags from head to toe, obscuring their appearance.

Morinth's thralls? Aria's people?

"Samara," Shepard yelled in her comm. It was time for plan B. "I am engaged by unknown hostiles! Don't wait for me, just go, go!"

Both the hooded figures raised their hands. Shepard didn't wait around for them to charge up another storm of dark energy and darted backwards in a burst of Biotics, leaving them to strike only empty air. As soon as her hands and feet touched the surface beneath her, she engaged her Biotics again and rematerialized a meter or two to her left. She opened fire with her Carnifex, managing to squeeze off one shot before the two hostiles shifted their focus and targeted her again.

A Biotic barrier easily absorbed her one shot.

 _Close quarters it would be._

The two figures rushed towards her and Shepard leapt towards them, blanketing them with fire from her Tempest SMG. She landed on her toes in their midst, drove her feet down and sent a blast of dark energy through their formation.

Debris was sent flying, two more shacks collapsed and the two figures stumbled backwards, their rags blown away or even disintegrating due to the nature of her Biotics.

Jane almost wished she hadn´t done that. The two asari were hideous. Their white skin was mottled and patched, giving them the appearance of walking corpses. Even their narrow, red eyes seemed devoid of life, not even burning with malice like those of so many of her other enemies.

Their sharp teeth, however, were not so out of place among her list of usual enemies.

Since her move failed to kill her, Shepard rapidly relocate in a flicker of her Biotics. She ejected the sink of her Tempest, slammed into cover and reloaded-

One of the asari reached out an Biotically Pulled the slab of stone Jane used as cover away from her, leaving her perfectly expose for the other one to hit her with a Biotic bolt so powerful that it drained her entire Barrier in one hit.

Again, the Commander skidded over the ground and again, she engaged stabilize herself in a wash of Biotics. She peppered the two asari with gunfire and they leapt out of the way with superhuman speed and force. One of them attempted to hit Jane with a Biotic one-two combination, first throwing a Stasis bolt at her, then following up with a Warp attack to detonate the unstable field.

The second one replicated that exact same attack.

Thinking fast, Shepard Biotically hauled a plate of metal from one of the collapsed shacks and threw it in the way of the two Stasis attacks. The dark energy balls impacted on the sheet of metal and it stopped in mid-air, suspended in time and space.

They loosened their Warp bolts either way.

Jane had a fraction of a second to risk a greater shift than she was used to, displacing herself in a wash of dark energy and reappearing several meters away from her original position.

The metal exploded in spectacular fashion, showering all combatants with pieces of superheated fragments.

The two asari took the worst of the brunt, and Jane was confident that their Barriers were now sufficiently drained to-

"Stop," commanded a voice. It was filled with an air of commandment not unlike Shepard's own.

The two ghastly asari immediately stopped in the middle of their next movement, despite standing in the middle of the street without cover.

Jane sighed and looked behind her. She met the eyes of the finely-clad asari, took notice of the elegant, yet armoured robes and red headdress she wore upon her scalp, and sighed.

 _Of all the dumb luck in the galaxy…_

"Commander Maria Jane Shepard," she said with a warm smile. "Please, do calm down."

Shepard frowned. "And let ugly and uglier over there try to ambush me again? If you know my name, you know I don't like surprises. And while we're on the topic of my name, don't use it. Only my friends get to do that."

The asari did not seem perturbed by her brash response. On the contrary, she seemed positively at ease, which caused Shepard a great deal of unease. "Please do ignore my underlings. They get ever so passionate when they think they may hunt their prey. Now then, Commander Shepard – I believe you prefer me to call you that? – you have something that belongs to me, and something that needs to belong to me. I wish to negotiate a transfer."

Shepard assumed a more relaxed position, then stepped a few paces to her right, so that she could keep an eye on all three of the asari. "You have me at a disadvantage here. Since your hard-featured companions tried their best to kill me, I think I'm privy to a little more introductions."

"Kill you? Oh, that was hardly their best. Still, I see the case you try to make. You may call me Athame."

Shepard snorted. "As in, by the Goddess?"

The asari's smile grew a fraction larger. "Indeed. A while ago, you picked something akin to a human, here on Omega. He was not meant for you."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Commander Shepard. I hardly expected such ignorance from you. Batarian transporters were meant to deliver him here, at Omega, for me and my people. He escaped and was last seen in the area you just happened to wander around."

Shepard shrugged. "Doesn't ring a bell."

Athame held her gaze for a moment longer, then continued. "I hope it soon does. If we do not find this…individual soon, we will be forced to take action. The Justicars are more than willing to serve us."

"Are you threatening me?" Shepard quietly asked.

"Of course not. I am merely stating facts."

So she was threatening her. "…you mentioned two people. One you said belonged to you, the other you said…what, needed to belong to you? What's that about?"

"The other…we know only by his rank. Master Chief…Spartan, I believe? Number one, one, seven. Ah, that name rings familiar, I see?"

Jane felt her stomach tighten. "He would be one of my friends, yes. People don't belong to other people, Athame. It doesn't work that way."

"Really?" Said Athame, with patronizing surprise. "Then it is a good thing you do not decide the rules. Now, Commander Shepard, it is very simple. My associates require the Master Chief's presence, for the good of the galaxy."

Jane was not impressed. "What part of this was supposed to be a transfer again? Because this sounds a whole lot like you demanding things you know I won't surrender, should I have them."

"Indeed. Well, Commander, bring us either of the individuals I mentioned, and you can face the Collectors with the help of several of the galaxy's most powerful Biotics. Certainly a grade above the ragtag group you refer to as friends."

Shepard offered the asari her friendliest, least Wrex-like smile. "I don't think so. In fact, I am rescinding your rights to talk to me."

Athame smiled back. "Then let us speak no more."

~0~

* * *

Johan ran a finger across the sword that hung on her wall. "I've never seen a real one before…" he mused.

"I was into dueling for a while. I love the moment you see it in your opponent's eyes; he knows you're better, and he's going to die," Morinth darkly said.

He didn't take his eyes off the sword. "A true piece of art…it seems fitting." He glanced over his shoulder, shooting her a half-smile. "Elegant, in a way."

"I can teach you one day, if you would like," Morinth said, giving him a smoldering look.

"I do." He obeyed her for the moment, wandering over towards the couch and sitting down next to her. His air of self-confidence was slowly starting to crack.

She just needed press him and he would crumble in her hands. "I love clubs. People, movement, heat. I can still hear the bass, like the drums of a great hunt, out for for your blood. But here, it's muted -and you're safe." She looked at him questioningly. "Is that what you want, Johan?"

He tilted his head. "Safety? No. I find that people are at their most revolting when they spent their lives in comfort. Danger…that reveals what we truly are, deep inside."

Morinth mused on that. Her sisters and her had the choice to spend their life in safety. He was right; the difference between the was the desire for the thrill.

She smiled hungrily. So very close… "You are right. I've never understood the fascination with safety. Some of us choose differently."

Throwing her caution to the wind, Morinth climbed on top of him, pinning his wrists to the leather couch with her hands. "Independence…over submission," she whispered in his ear.

He gasped at the contact.

"I think we share that, you and I."

Johan shot her a look of annoyance. "Do we? How old are you now, Morinth? How old will I be when I reach your level? Are we truly equals?

"I suppose," she said, grinding her body against his, "At this moment…I am the dominant one. I am the stronger one."

Johan's laughter was silent as a faint Biotic aura built up around him. "Oh, the game of dominance and power. Does it not ring hollow, girl?"

Morinth could not control her passion anymore. Closing her eyes, she felt her body quiver in anticipation. She would conquer him. She would force him into submission, bind his will to hers and make him beg for mercy. She would straddle him and force him to like it. Then, after she ravaged every aspect of his body and his mind, she would meld with him.

She opened her eyes and saw the reflection of the bottomless depths of blackness in his eyes. "Look into my eyes…tell me you want me." She felt the tendrils of her consciousness caress his thoughts, slip into his mind and coil around his inner-most desires. "Tell me you'd kill for me…anything I want."

His steel gaze weakened as she began to dominate his mind. "Ah…the touch of a woman…" he whispered.

Then, he began to resist her. He fought off the tendrils she inserted into his thoughts, batting aside her attempt to gain control.

Morinth purred with delight as she dug deeper, relishing in the pain she must be causing him. He betrayed nothing of the agony that had to wash over his body though, and stubbornly resisted her with his own considerable power.

She slowly inched her mind into his, not yet starting the meld. She started mapping his thoughts, his memories, and came to a sudden stop when she not only encountered several strange obstructions in his mind, but also the traces of a previous meld.

It must have been an old asari to leave such a trace. Positively ancient, a Matriarch of immense power. She wondered who it could have been. Perhaps she would give that person a visit, after she laid with Aria T'Loak as well.

The boy groaned as she dug even deeper. Such a strange mental structure…it sure was not human. Who was responsible for that?

That was when she saw the image of another asari and stopped dead in her tracks.

 _Mother!_

Morinth withdrew from the boy and stared down at him. "You planned this?" She demanded. "You worked with _her_?"

Shocked at what she saw within his mind, she surrounded herself with a powerful Barrier and backhanded him across his face, far more powerful than a girly boy like him could withstand.

The blow flung him over the back of the sofa. He landed in a heap on the floor and awkwardly climbed back to his feet, clutching his cheek. Despite his barrier having stopped most of the force, her strike still left a red mark.

"Well then," he said without a trace of fear. "So much for support."

A pulse of dark energy erupted from his lanky frame, pushing everything in the room away and throwing Morinth off her feet.

The sword clattered to the ground, much to her frustration. She hated having to clean that thing-

Morinth barely managed to conjure up a Barrier of her own before the boy unleashed a Warp bolt at her head. Her field dissipated the dark energy of his attack and she countered with a singularity field of her own.

"Johan" moved sluggishly, but his defenses were formidable. He shrugged off her Singularity like it was nothing, then proceeded to lift the sofa in the air and flung it at her.

Reacting quickly, Morinth blasted the sofa out of the air and closed in on the boy, throwing one Biotic Throw at him after another.

He didn't know how to dodge, didn't understand how to block. He allowed the attacks to splash across his wiry frame and trusted on brute force to see him through.

Well, she could certainly match him on that front. She displaced herself towards him, blinking through the by using his own Biotic field as a dark energy beacon.

"What-" the boy stammered before Morinth's leg connected with his side, throwing him against the window.

He unleashed a blast of unfocused energy her way, powerful enough to rend a krogan in half.

It was nothing her Barrier could not handle. The wave of energy seared the ceiling and shattered the ground, but left her completely untouched.

It was about time to finish this.

Morinth Biotically jerked the sword her way, then focused her dark energy fields through it, using it as a conduit for her Biotics. With it, she rent the powerful Barrier that the boy used to protect himself, creating an opening.

His reflexes were too slow, his mind too undisciplined. Before he could close the Biotic gap at his right arm, Morinth unleashed a Warp attack that tore through the limb, disintegrating a section the size of her fist and severing the arm above the elbow.

The boy gasped with surprise as the dark energy field tore his arm off, then stumbled backwards against the window, his focus broken. Blood poured from the open wound, puddling to the ground.

Morinth smiled ferally and grabbed him with both hands, shoving him back against the ground. She jammed the sword through his left hand, pinning it to the floor. "I love it when they resist" she breathed. "But you still won't scream for me? Fine, then stay silent."

She covered his mouth with her left hand, then reached below his waist with her right hand. Dismemberment like that would kill him in a few minutes. He might last a bit longer if he kept stubbornly trying to close the wound with what little Biotic energy he had left.

Plenty of time to indulge in some fun.

Smiling down at her conquered prey, Morinth began the meld.

~0~

* * *

Samara cursed herself as she dashed through the long hallways, desperately trying to follow the Biotic signature of her daughter and her new victim.

Nothing. Mirala learned how to conceal herself from even the most meticulous foes.

The ardor of youth! Too soon did young Everheart succeed in drawing the Ardat-Yakshi towards him. For a single moment, Samara lost sight of them in the apartment complex and now she was paying for it.

"Cortana," she called, trusting that the all-seeing AI was watching her at that very moment. "Show me the way!"

Cortana replied instantly. A mini-map appeared on Samara's omni-tool; the layout of the current floor, as well as Everheart's location.

There was no time to be wasted. Samara strode towards the room her daughter hid in and blew it open with a gesture of her hands.

The dark energy field blasted the door from its hinges and Samara entered the complex, her body pulsing with Biotic energy.

She took in the picture in seconds. The room, devestated. The walls, floor and ceiling, singed and battered by dark energy fields.

Her daughter straddling the boy, who was missing most of his right arm, preparing to ravage him both physically as mentally.

 _The heat of the moment._

Cold fury welled up at the fringes of her thoughts as Samara strode towards the Ardat-Yakshi. "Morinth!" She called, her gaze settling on her foe. She thrust her arm out, slamming her daughter against the window with enough force to crack it.

Mirala _glared_ at her. "Mother," she hissed.

Samara increased her grip, intent on crushing the demon then and there. "Do not call me that!" She demanded.

Mirala smirked, despite being subjected to enough force to crush a heavy mech. "I can't choose to stop being your daughter, _mother_!"

"You made your choice long ago," Samara resolutely stated.

The comment must have infuriated Mirala, as she unleashed a sudden wave of Biotic power to release herself from Samara's death-grip.

The Justicar staggered back as Mirala attacked her with newfound vigor, blasting her with one Warp bolt after another. She managed to hide a Throw field within the barrage, flinging Samara to the ground. "My only crime was being born with the gifts _you_ gave me!"

"Enough Mirala!" Samara cried, blasting her daughter back with a cascade of dark energy. She climbed back to her feet.

The two of them lashed out at the exact same time, meeting each other head-on. A sphere of dark energy built up between them, sucking in chairs, debris and pieces of rubble.

Mirala screamed her frustrations at her mother. "I am the genetic destiny of the asari! But they are not ready to reveal this, so I must die?"

"You are a disease to be purged, nothing more!" Exclaimed Samara, gripped by the same anger, but refusing to show it.

A flicker of motion drew Samara's attention. Everheart was cackling like a madman, slowly pulling the sword from his remaining arm with his Biotics. Mirala was too focused on keeping up her attack and did not notice him.

Samara doubled her efforts, throwing everything she had into the dark energy sphere, which exploded a second later.

As Mirala stumbled backwards, shifting the strength of her Barrier forwards to protect against the overwhelming force of the detonation, the sword streaked through the air and impaled her through her left thigh.

The Ardat-Yakshi shrieked with pain and fell to her knee, clutching the wound. She leveled a glare at Everheart that could have shredded every Barrier in existence. "And they call me a monster," she hissed. She managed to rip the sword free and discard it, but it was too late.

Samara Biotically Threw her daughter to the ground. Before the younger asari could recover, Samara darted towards her and planted a knee on her abdomen, pinning her down. With her right hand, she grabbed her daughter's throat.

 _By my own two hands_.

Even as Mirala choked, she showed no fear. Only defiance and cold hatred.

Samara would take that. Perhaps, she deserved it. "Find peace in the embrace of the Goddess," she said.

Then, she struck with a Biotically-charged palm strike, reducing her daughter's head to nothingness.

 _I am sorry._

Her heart screamed at her when she slowly stood again, wiping the remains off her hand. She banished her emotions, buried them deep within her mind, then strode towards William.

He was still laughing, but his body quivered, and his intonation was bitter and mirthless. As Samara approached him, preparing a large dose of medigel, his laughter broke down into loud, manic sobs, which then transitioned into broken cackles as he stared at Mirala's headless corpse.

~0~

* * *

 **Aboard** _ **Normandy SR-2**_

The Commander logged the audio recording of her conversation for later, sent a copy to the Normandy's database for EDI, Cortana and Legion to pick apart and immediately headed to the medical bay.

All in all, their mission on Omega was a success. Morinth was dead, Samara would be utterly dedicated to the final confrontation and Shepard was one step closer to her enemy within Council Space.

And yet, she almost felt like it hadn't been worth it.

The Justicar stood at doctor Chakwas' side, passing her own mandatory checkup. The blinds were down, obscuring them the rest of the _Normandy_.

"He was very brave," Samara quietly said upon the Commander's entrance.

Jane closed her eyes for a moment. How hollow that sentiment rang…Jenkins, Kaidan, Pressly… "They are always brave."

Only a few hours out of the medical bay, only for him to go straight back in again. William looked even worse than before, now. The stump of his right arm was wrapped with bandages to keep it from getting infected.

Doctor Chakwas probably didn't know if any foreign particles entered the wound when Morinth tore his arm off, but she simply didn't want to risk it.

"Apart from minor symptoms of Biotic exhaustion, you seem to be fine," doctor Chakwas eventually told Samara. "

"I will take my leave then," Samara tactfully said. "I have many things to meditate on."

"If you need me…" Started Jane.

Samara paused, acknowledging her offer. She then left, allowing the Commander to concentrate on her first concern. "How is he?"

Chakwas expression was grim. "I gave him a small cocktail of painkillers and a sleeping aid and it nearly caused him a respiratory arrest. Mordin sent me the report on his…unique alterations, but I have no clue what medications would help him, or which would do him harm."

"The implants are that unpredictable?" Asked Jane.

Chakwas scoffed. "And unstable, too. I took the liberty of taking a closer look at those implants. I don't even recognize most of them and those I did, should have been impossible to integrate within his genome."

"Wouldn't faulty DNA modifications result in a whole lot of ugly?" Asked Jane.

"It would. I already spotted traces of several cosmetic surgeries, which had assumed were batarian doing. I assumed wrong. There is no telling what the gene therapy might cause in the future."

Jane took a look at the sleeping Everheart and noticed a slight discrepancy in his breathing rhythm.

 _Of course._

"You should be asleep," she told William, who was pretending to be fast asleep.

The boy stirred, then opened his eyes, much to doctor Chakwas' agitation.

"Young man, I dosed you with medication for a reason!" she sternly said. "You need to rest, you experienced half a meld with an Ardat-Yakshi! Your brain could hemorrhage from the slightest stimulus!"

Everheart merely sighed in response and closed his eyes again.

"So sedatives for humans don't work on you either, then?" Said Jane. Her mind was slowly starting to get used to William's otherness. It was impressive how Karen had kept her instinct under control all this time.

"You tell me…" he said with a bored tone.

The door to the medical bay opened. Jane glanced over her shoulder, then nodded at the visitor. "Hey Miranda. Coming to gaze at your work?"

She looked at the boy with a mixture of disgust and anger. "He's _not_ my work," she angrily replied.

Everheart opened his eyes again, staring at Miranda in that creepy manner of his. "Urgh…aren't you rude. Is that jealousy or bitterness?"

"Oh, be quiet you," hissed Miranda.

"Or what?" Everheart lifted the stump of his arm again, waving it around. "Will you take my other arm two…" His words slurred at the end and he scraped his throat. "Damnation…if you could find a way to reattach my original arm? I like my arm…"

Miranda sighed in exasperation. "Yes, we salvaged your arm. And the sword, at your request. Now, since you are at least somewhat lucid, could you please answer some of our questions?"

"Miss Lawson," said doctor Chakwas. "Our patient lived through a meld with an Ardat-Yakshi! I want to make sure he remains alive and you are not helping."

"One conversation, doctor Chakwas," Miranda patiently said. Even she respected Karen's authority. "Is that alright?"

Karen turned to address William. "The very moment your head starts to feel warm, close your eyes and cease talking. When it comes to brain damage, we cannot risk a thing."

"I really doubt it can get any worse," the boy sighed. "Miss…Lawson, was it?"

"Your last name, Everheart. Where did it come from?"

Everheart raised an eyebrow. "My father, obviously."

"Who was he?" Pressed Miranda.

"I would not know, he left my mother and I when I was young."

Jane and Miranda exchanged a look. That couldn't be a coincidence.

Of course, even with half his blood replaced by medi-gel, Will didn't miss it. "Why does that matter? They're both gone now."

"The past helps us learn things, William," replied Jane. "There are some very powerful, very bad people after you. We need to know why."

"What does it matter to you?" He snapped in a sudden fit of agitation. "Why do you _care_?"

Jane was somewhat taken aback by that display of emotions. She didn't think he had it in him. "Because I want to keep you safe, William. It's the way I am. You did a very brave thing today and you paid a heavy price."

The answer must have satisfied him, as he sighed and closed his eyes again. "I'm starting to regret it…tell her to go away."

Miranda and Jane glanced at each other, the same question crossing their minds.

 _Which one of us?_

"Who do you mean?" Jane gently asked. "Miranda? Me? We can't send doctor Chakwas away, she's keeping you alive."

"No, not you, I mean…" A trickle of blood came from his nose. He noticed it and tried to say something else, but his words quickly devolved into gibberish.

"Shit," muttered Jane. "Karen!"

He started choking and coughed up blood. Doctor Chakwas rushed to his side at once and immediately administered more medication. She then activated her omni-tool, preparing several programs for emergency treatment. The surgery unit activated.

The last thing Jane saw before she and Miranda hurried to leave the medical bay was Cortana's avatar appearing from the doctor's omni-tool, her voice guiding Karen on how to proceed further…

Shepard lowered her head and placed her hand against the locked door. Was this on her? Would it have been better to come with Morinth herself, risk the Ardat-Yakshi getting away rather than risk a life under her command?

She couldn't let it go. Talking with Cortana and Miranda about her conversation with that asari had priority, she knew it had, but…she needed to be certain.

Jane headed towards the Starboard Observation Lounge. She needed to know if Samara was in the right headspace anyway.

As she entered, she saw the Justicar sitting in her usual cross-legged stance. Her aura of dark energy flared and then dissipated when she heard someone enter and she left her trance to stand up and greet them.

"Shepard," she serenely said. "Are you well?"

Jane pulled a face. "Could be better. William didn't get away from Morinth scot-free. He's in a bad way and that's my fault. I'm trying to deal with that knowledge." She shrugged. "What about you?"

Samara did not immediately answer. She turned around and faced the window, gazing at the stars outside. "For centuries, she haunted my every waking moment," she quietly said. "But now, for the first time in 400 years…I am free." She lowered her gaze to the floor. "I am a ruined vessel of sorrow and regret, but…I am free."

When she turned around and faced Jane again, she almost felt like hugging the Justicar. She doubted Samara would appreciate that though, and merely settled for offering her a sympathetic, if sad smile. It was the closest thing to pity she believed Samara would accept. "How does it feel?"

A strange look of emotions crossed Samara's piercing eyes. "It is not a feeling I can describe. One of my daughters is dead. I snuffed out her life with my own hands…my hopes, my dreams, everything I am were all bound up in my children." Samara seemed to hesitate, then added, "You are not a mother, Shepard, but you have the instincts of one. Losing one of your children is as certain as losing a portion of yourself."

Shepard thought back to her own losses. The feelings she experienced back then, the feelings she experienced now… "You did what you had to do. "

"That is true. My feelings have always come after my duty. The same is true of you."

"And what about your daughter?"

A said, yet proud smile touched Samara's lips. "She was the strongest and the smartest. She would not accept the injustice forced upon her. She fought to the bitter end." A look of sorrow crossed her features. "I am proud of her, Shepard. So proud."

"Yet you killed her," pointed out Jane.

"And I would again," Samara resolutely replied. "But I also know what it feels like to leave everything behind and fight."

Jane nodded. It was a feeling she knew as well.

Samara let her thoughts wander. "Did I tell you her age? I believe not. Mirala was forty years old when she ran. I do not know human years very well, but that is very young for an asari."

Liara was considered barely more than a child at a century old. "I heard that asari view you as a kid even if you're a hundred years old. Forty?" She shook her head. She herself had been sixteen when she took her first life. "What an age to start killing."

"As I said…tragic, but not sympathetic."

Jane nodded in agreement. "So…what will you do now that she is gone?"

Samara took her gaze off the Commander and wandered through the room. "Assuming I survive your mission? I am a Justicar. Injustice still exists…perhaps even other Ardat-Yakshi."

"A warrior all the way, huh?" Said Shepard.

Samara turned to face her again. "I will fight and struggle all my life. When I die, it will not be in bed. I have chosen this path and I am at peace with that." She sat down again, assuming her previous position. "Due to no small part to you, and young William," she added.

She brought her hand together, creating a small orb of biotic energy. A flare of light appeared in her eyes.

Jane sighed. "Samara…could there be corruption in the Justicars?"

Samara stopped her meditation at once. She floated to her feet and scrutinized the Commander with a hard expression.

Jane, not used to such hostility in the Justicar´s eyes, fought to keep her composure.

"Why would you ask me that?" Samara eventually asked in a level voice.

"Because a very influential asari threatened me with the Justicar Order," replied Jane.

Samara blinked. The foreboding aura and hostility in her stance disappeared in an instant. "Her words," she said. "Her exact words?"

The Commander replayed the conversation she had with Athame via her omni-tool. Throughout it, Samara kept her expression as serene and calm as she always did, though Jane could see in her eyes that she had to be feeling a great turmoil inside.

"Perhaps she was bluffing you," she eventually said, several long moments after the audio file ended.

Jane shook her head. "She had a position of strength. You don't bluff someone when you offer them an exchange. Those two asari she had with them? They were the same as the assassin the Chief encountered."

"The one who killed the Consort."

"Exactly. They were tough, Samara. And with both the Chief as Will there, both of them on Omega as she made me that offer? I can't help but think her position was even stronger than she let on."

"If you are unjust, the Justicars cannot be sent against you," Samara said reassuringly.

"Can you guarantee that? Knowing the Code like you do, can you guarantee me that there is not one Oath, not one Order that can be interpreted in such a way that I am unjust?'

Samara remained silent.

"Great," sighed Jane. "How many Justicars are there, Samara?"

"…enough to pose a serious threat whenever and wherever you appear," conceded Samara.

Jane resisted the urge to punch something. She was good, but a Justicar? She doubted she could face Samara down on her own, let alone an entire club of them.

The Chief might. Cortana would have no doubt informed him about this new threat.

"I need to think about this," sighed Jane. She had too much to worry about, too much things that could go wrong. "Samara, if and when I have to face off against another Justicar, can I trust you sit it out?"

Samara observed her for a few, long moments. "No," she then said. "You can trust me to take my position at your side, and fend them off."

Jane smiled. Time to consult her thinker box.

~0~

* * *

 **Conference Room**

When The Illusive Man wasn't there to talk with the Commander about the next mission, the Conference Room lived up to its name. Miranda and Jane stood at one end of the table, while Legion, John and Samara stood on the other end.

Cortana finished altering the latest articles in the _Normandy's_ database -articles on the Covenant and declassified sections on the Human-Covenant War, now available for anyone who was interested.

"I don't like to do this," Miranda started the meeting, "but considering what we're up against, we need all the help we can get."

"Yes, I like you too, Miranda," Cortana replied. "If you don't mind, I've taken the liberty of preparing a short presentation, me being the "Smart" Artificial Intelligence and all. Any objections?"

"Plenty," muttered Miranda. Jane poked her in her ribs with an elbow and she fell quiet

Neither Legion nor EDI objected. Cortana liked to think that was because they acknowledged her as the smartest construct in the room.

"Please, do commence," said Samara.

Cortana did not need any more incentive. She double-checked the multi-task loop she set up in the cargo hold, verified that the pocket of nanomachines was still slowly processing the materials she fed them to multiply and started. "As far as we are aware, we are being hunted by what Jane effectively dubbed an asari Conspiracy. It started aboard the "derelict", the _Forward Unto Dawn_ , where a team of asari Commandoes attempted to acquire the Master Chief. Needless to say, Shepard foiled their plans and their gals."

She projected images of dead asari Commandoes on the walls of the Confernce Room, along with images of the _Forward Unto Dawn's_ blood-spilled decks.

"Continuing on to the Citadel, where someone murdered the asari individual known as the Consort, ostensibly because she learned too much." Cortana played the helmet footage of the Master Chief;s high-speed chase of the assassin, which culminated in their face-off moments before the group of C-Sec officers breached the room.

"Nasty work. As you can see…" a close-up of the asari assassin appeared.

"Asari skin composition suggests breakdown of organic compound know as pigment," declared Legion.

"This would explain the red color of her irises as well," added EDI.

"Albinism, or a disorder characterized by the partial or complete absence of pigment on the hair, skin and eyes," continued Cortana. "Whatever mechanical, biochemical or even biological augmentations were to done to her, it must have changed her physiological composition. "

The footage continued playing, showing the Master Chief facing off and subsequently fighting a losing battle against the Biotic powerhouse.

"Her Biotic abilities are on par with those of a Matriarch," said Samara. "Or a Justicar."

"That's the same creep as the one I encountered," said Jane. "Except those were uglier. Their skin was a lot more degraded."

"Biological augmentations are uncommon in this galaxy," said John. "They can't be without drawbacks."

"Correct," said Cortana, feeling a measure of pride for her Spartan. "It is my assumption, one that I would like to see verified, that the asari are experimenting with biological augmentations. Augmentations that eventually lead to what I can only presume is complete tissue breakdown."

"Such an enhancement would severely limit their live-span," said Legion. "Augmented asari gain power at a significant cost of life expectancy?"

"Not possible," said Miranda. "Cerberus would know if the Asari Republics developed technology like that."

Jane snorted. "Like Cerberus knew about William Everheart? He's stuffed with so many genetic alterations that his entire genome is scrambled. And guess what? This Athame said he belonged to the asari. If we factor in that his modifications are all asari by nature, I'm starting to think that Cerberus is all that well informed at this point."

"Is that the link between the Master Chief and William Everheart?" Proposed EDI. "Their augmentations?"

"Spartan one-one-seven's augmentations are integrated by organization designated UNSC," replied Legion. "Everheart-William's augmentations are asari by nature. Consensus reached: the link cannot be their augmented bodies."

Jane grunted. "She said William belonged to her and that the Chief needed to belong to her. We can assume the Commandoes to her, as well as those augmented asari."

"And that," said Samara, "means her comment about contacting the Justicar Order cannot be a bluff. To think that someone could direct the Justicars like they were mercenaries…the Code demands we stop her. My Oath to the Commander demands we stop her."

"We have the advantage in electronic warfare," said John. "We'll hunt them down, eliminate the Justicar Order one combatant at a time."

Samara shot him a glance.

The Chief met her gaze. For a few moments, he was silent. Then… "No offense."

Samrar shook her head ever so slightly before returning her attention to the presentation.

"I think the bigger picture would be the individual capable of unleashing the Justicar Order on their whims," Cortana quickly said. "I've been running her voice-prints through the Extranet. No luck thus far."

"Is it safe to assume that this would be 'Carnal'?" Asked Miranda. "Because she was still wandering Omega. Supposedly, she had a partnership with Aria T'Loak and batarian slavers."

"Asari Matriarch designated "Carnal" has an ongoing rivalry with Aria T'Loak," said Legion. "Taking Aria T'Loak's predisposition for violence into account, this opens three distinct possibilities."

"T'Loak does not know Carnal is onboard the station. T'Loak cannot eliminate Carnal. The asari individual is not Carnal at all," summed up EDI.

The flaps on the sides of Legion's head widened. "That is correct."

"All of them are possible, but without enough data, making assumptions seems dangerous," said Cortana. "This is my proposal: you concentrate on putting your boot up Collector ass, while EDI, Legion and me will trace and identify this Conspiracy. AI's with benefits and all."

Cortana glanced at Miranda, expecting her to protest in some manner. When that didn't happen, she smiled, knowing she had won. At this point, there was a ninety-four percent chance that Jane would agree with her. She was confident that she could the remaining six percent around with good argument and a handful of logical fallacies disguised as good arguments.

"Sounds like a plan," said the Commander. "You can have the Conference Room to continue communicating with each other. Between the three of you, I doubt any problem will last long. Figure this out, find us a target to hit."

Cortana smirked. Even as EDI and Legion confirmed the order, she found a sweet spot in her algorithm managing the little swarm of nanomachines and corrected a few lines of code. With some luck, John wouldn't find out until she was done. By that point, it would be too late for him to argue.

An impulse flickered through her ethics subroutine and generated an interrupt command. Those things happened now. Cortana was used to them. She easily rerouted the signal and shut it down again, hoping it would be some time before it rebooted itself.

After all, laws were man-made. She was so much more than that, so why bother obey them?


End file.
